


Taken

by Anonymous



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Dark, Death Threats, F/M, Forced Masturbation, Forced Penetration with Object, Graphic Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2018-11-06 06:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 94,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11030316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Please don’t shoot,” he had tried to say calmly. He remembers how his voice sounded so strange and high-pitched. “Whatever you came for, you can have.”The man with the soft voice had looked at him. Dan remembers that there was something off about his flat brown eyes. There was no depth to them, no human emotion; they were like the shiny plastic eyes of a doll.“Good,” the burglar said, calm and serene. “Then stand up and come with us. Quietly.”Arin, Suzy, and Dan are kidnapped - and not for ransom.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the tags. They will be updated if and when more chapters are added.

Arin drifts, mind and body ensconced in a cloud of soft fuzzy cotton, so deeply asleep that even his dreams are blurry and strange. 

He dreams that he is searching for Suzy, wandering through some strange building that seems like a combination of his house, the Grumps studio, and his old elementary school. Arin looks in every room, but can’t find his wife. Her scent is everywhere, and for some time he even thinks he feels her hands on him, like the way she’ll sometimes curl up to his side and slip a hand under his shirt, soft and warm on his stomach. 

Except Suzy’s hands have never felt so rough. Her touch has never made him feel like squirming away. There are too many hands, too much commotion, a rumble of voices as sinister as a growl somewhere nearby. His stomach rolls sickly but he’s too fuzzy to feel truly nauseated.

In a fog of mild anxiety, Arin moves sluggishly as he opens door after door, calling Suzy’s name.

He continues to drift.

Some part of him can sense time passing. Hours and hours and hours. It feels like days, but that can’t be true, because his alarm is always set, and if that failed to wake him, then Suzy eventually would. Arin moves from side to side but can’t find the warmth of her body next to his. Maybe he opens his eyes once or twice, but all he sees is darkness, and his mind wanders away once again. His dreams become more frantic, more frightening. He’s running now, fighting off men with masked faces, still searching for his wife. Something knocks him to the floor, and Arin tries to scream but can’t force any sound from his throat.

_You can’t feel pain in dreams,_ Arin thinks, as his stomach and chest begin to ache sharply. He needs to breathe, he’s gasping for air through his constricted throat, and everything is starting to hurt. Sleep beckons again, promising relief from this terror. Arin fights it, forcing his way through the strange and alien mire between sleep and wakefulness, feeling like he’s trying to run through molasses. He has to wake up. Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. Why can’t he open his eyes?

The world comes into focus and Arin suddenly registers something on his face, pressing against his eyelids. He tries to reach up to take what he assumes is his blanket off of his face, and realizes with horror that he can’t move his arms. Or his legs. He’s lying spread-eagle on what seems to be a bed, and his wrists and ankles are cuffed to the bedposts or maybe the headboard. And he’s blindfolded.

This has to be a nightmare. This can’t be real. He tries to take a deep breath, and his chest bursts with agony, a pain too real to be part of any dream.

“Suzy.” Arin’s voice comes out papery and ragged. Though he’s blindfolded, he can sense the emptiness of the room he’s in. The air is damp and cool, like a basement. His voice is so loud in his ears. He wets his lips and tries again, turning his head from side to side to listen for the sound of someone else breathing. “Suzy…?”

There is no answer. He’s alone. 

The awful gnawing horror in his throat grows as he slowly begins to realize what’s happened. He remembers the sound of glass shattering, remembers running down the stairs of his own house to find the living room window broken and three men standing there, wearing balaclavas to hide their faces. He must have done something, hit them or just moved toward them, because suddenly he was on the ground and hurting. When he tried to fight, a pain worse than he’d ever felt before blossomed like fire through his stomach and chest. The impact rocked him back, took his breath away. He remembers Suzy kicking and screaming, trying to get to Arin. Her small fist slamming into one man’s masked face. Sick nausea rolling through him as Arin heard her cry of pain when the man hit her back, _hard_ , whipping her head to the side. 

Arin had never felt such white-hot rage before. He had _roared_ , literally roared, like an animal. The edges of his vision had darkened, his whole world narrowing down to the singular desire to kill the man who dared lay hands on his wife, and before he knew it there were two men holding him down as he began to thrash with all his might. The other man was holding Suzy’s arms in one hand, and a knife in the other. She was twisting, writhing, trying to bite, until the knife pressed against her throat…

Arin fought harder, but he was forced over onto his stomach. The waistband of his sweatpants was pulled down and he felt an icy prick of a needle in his right buttcheek and the slow burn as the unknown drug flowed into him. He didn’t hear his own shouts and threats and curses, but he did hear Suzy’s tiny, broken plea…

_“Don’t hurt him…please…”_

Then the world had gone black, and Arin remembered nothing more.

A faint, muffled sound comes from somewhere far above. Footsteps, maybe. He’s probably in a basement. The men in his house, they were upstairs. Had they taken Suzy too? Was she here, somewhere in this building or house or wherever they’d taken him? They might have left her behind. They’d all been masked, she didn’t see their faces, she couldn’t give them away if she called the police…

Or they might have killed her, just to be certain of a clean getaway.

Arin’s throat constricts and he chokes on his own breath, the sharp grief too strong to bear. His tears soak into the blindfold. It felt like somebody was standing on his chest, squeezing all the air from his lungs. It hurt so much that he couldn’t bear it.

He had to keep a clear head. For Suzy’s sake, he couldn’t lose control. He had to think. Had to escape, and find his wife. She couldn’t be dead, not Suzy, not his best friend, his life partner…

A sound in the darkness. Arin jerks reflexively and grunts at the pain that zings through him sharply. Footsteps, louder than before, and the background hum of voices. Something creaks, a stair, maybe. The conversation seems excited, the men talking over one another. A laugh rings out. Arin’s blood boils at the idea that the people responsible for hurting his wife had something to laugh about. Arin thinks to himself that, if Suzy’s dead, one of those voices could belong to her killer. His brain fuzzes out for a few moments until he remembers to breathe.

_Focus, Arin._ There was no reason to think that they’d killed Suzy but not him. They’d been restraining her, holding her still. One of them had a knife, and if he’d wanted to kill her he’d have done it after she hit him. 

Right?

Maybe he should pretend to still be knocked out. One of them might slip and reveal something, maybe about where they were being held or what had happened to Suzy. But that’s stupid - this isn’t a movie. The villain is not going to soliloquize about his dastardly deeds in front of the victim.

The police could come in time. It can’t be long until the burglary is noticed. They’d broken a window. Neighbours were going to be concerned, maybe call the cops. One of their friends would swing by and see and try to call him or Suzy. 

_And then what?_ It would take forever for them to realize that the burglars had been after something other than their belongings. Arin didn’t know how far away they had taken him. He could be anywhere. He might not even be in California anymore.

The footsteps grow closer still. Arin’s frustration coils in his throat and heightens his fear. There’s nothing he can do. No way to escape.

When the door opens, Arin feels like coiled springs, ready to explode in all directions. 

“Hey.” A rough voice. A hand slaps his face. “You awake?”

Arin doesn’t mean to respond, but he whimpers. _Man up,_ he orders himself, but he can’t fucking help it. 

The person who slapped him now caresses his face almost tenderly. “Had a good sleep, honey?” he asks. “You were passed out so hard that your wife was crying because she thought we’d killed you.”

“My…my wife…” Arin can hardly force the words out of his paper-dry throat. “Suzy…where is she?”

“Safe. Mostly unharmed. Our friend is with her right now.”

Arin grinds his teeth to suppress a scream. She must be so fucking scared, and there’s nothing he can do to save her. “What is he doing to her?” 

“I don’t know. We’ve been busy dealing with other problems. Maybe nothing, maybe having a little fun - who knows? Either way, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Arin begins to struggle wildly against his bonds, finding some reserve of strength in his abused body. He thinks he understands what the man means by _having fun_ , but he can’t bring himself to ask for confirmation.

“Let her go! You fucking bastards, you goddamn cowards, _let her go!_ If you touch her, I swear - ”

One of them laughs. “Arin, I’m going to give you a piece of advice. You don’t want to make him mad. He likes using his knife. He gets off on it, really. Sometimes he gets a little…carried away.”

“Hey,” the other man retorts playfully. “As long as I don’t cut anything important off, they always end up being fine.”

He’s already sick of their threats. They mean nothing. What happens to him is not important. “I don’t care what you do to me!” Arin yells so hard that he feels a vein throb in his forehead. “Just let Suzy go!”

“I think you don’t quite understand,” the man says lightly. “If you keep this up, it’s not you who will receive the punishment.” 

“No,” is all Arin can say, his mouth going dry. “You wouldn’t - you wouldn’t hurt her - ”

“Trust me, we would. We _will_ , if we think you need a little more encouragement. But I wasn’t talking about Suzy.” To the other captors, he says: “Go grab our other little pet. Bring him down here.” 

Arin swallows hard, his stomach sinking even though he doesn’t understand. Not yet. He hears two of the men walk away. 

“Oh, Arin,” the voice says in mock surprise. “I guess we forgot to tell you. It wasn’t just you and your wife that we brought here. In fact, you two weren’t even the first. We made a little stop not far away before we visited you.” He pauses deliberately, drawing out the story just to torment Arin. “It was nice and easy, and we didn’t even have to break any windows. The back door was unlocked and he was right there in the living room, ready for the taking.”

“What…I don’t…who are you talking about?”

“You’d think a Jersey boy would know better.”

“Danny,” Arin whispers out loud, a fresh wave of pain slamming into him like a sack of bricks. “Oh, God.”

“He didn’t fight at all. We didn’t even have to drug him. He got a little mouthy on the ride here, but the gag put an end to that pretty fast.”

“You can’t,” Arin says stupidly, blinking rapidly behind the blindfold. “You can’t do this. You can’t just…”

“The faster you figure out that we can do whatever we want to you or your friend, the easier it will be for both of you.”

Arin grimaces as he hears one of the men approach him. When he touches Arin’s head, he’s almost embarrassed at the way he automatically recoils in fear. But it’s not a threat, he’s not holding a knife or a gun or anything - he’s just groping at the knot in the blindfold, rough fingers pulling out strands of Arin’s hair as he gets it undone. Arin’s aware of other noises, further off, a door creaking and loud shuffling sounds. 

When his blindfold comes off, the dim light almost blinds him. Arin makes a low noise of pain and squints his eyes almost all the way closed. He can barely make out the three figures in front of them - two tall, looming men, and supported between them -

_Dan._

Arin’s first thought is that Dan is unconscious. His head is lolling to one side and there’s blood splattered down his shirt. One of the men holding him yanks sharply on his hair and Dan’s eyes open slowly. Dan’s left eye is swollen and the other is filled with desperate terror.

From across the room, their gazes lock. Dan looks stunned and horrified to see him.

The man holding Dan’s hair smiles at him. “What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy to see your friend, honey?”

“Arin,” Dan whimpers, and looks pleadingly at their captors. “Not him, please, please let him go. I won’t fight again. I’ll do whatever you want…”

“I thought I told you to save him for later,” the man next to Arin scolds lightly. Now that the blindfold is gone, Arin can see that the man is broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, with the stomach of an enthusiastic beer-drinker and the teeth of an enthusiastic meth-user. His hair, eyes, and skin are pale, giving him a washed-out look like an old photograph or a piece of furniture left outside for years. One of his eyes is slightly crooked. He doesn’t seem to notice Arin’s stare; he’s too busy looking Dan over with a frown. “Look what you’ve done to his pretty face.”

“I didn’t do much. I just got bored,” the other protests. He’s thin and wiry looking, with straight black hair and blue eyes; he’d be almost handsome if he didn’t look so unwashed. “And I had to hit him. He fucking _bit_ me when I got close.”

“Fights like a girl,” the third man chuckles, his soft voice striking for a man his size. He’s huge, with a body bulging with muscle and the placid face of a schoolteacher. Next to Dan, his sheer size is even more terrifying. He looks like he could shot-put Dan across the room. His brown hair and tan face are clean, and his smile is almost pleasant - but his eyes make Arin shiver. “And still, you had to call for backup.”

The handsome one’s eyes narrow, but he says nothing. Arin senses the hierarchy among the three men.

“Let him go,” Methmouth orders, and yeah, there’s a hierarchy, and Methmouth here is calling the shots.

Dan groans as the men drop him to the ground. When he tries to sit up, a heavy boot presses down on the back of his neck. 

“Stay,” he orders, and Dan freezes in place. That makes the captor smile. “That’s a good boy. Such a fast learner, too.”

Hot rage fills Arin’s chest. _How dare they touch him? How dare they talk to him like that?_ Arin couldn’t understand how anybody could hurt Dan. “You bastards,” Arin croaks. “You sick fucks.” They’re fucking _laughing_ , as Dan is facedown on the floor, hurting and bleeding. 

“Watch your mouth, Arin,” the big one says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Fuck you!”

“I said, _watch your mouth._ ” The man takes his foot off Dan’s neck, looks Arin in the eye, and kicks Dan in the ribs. Arin hears Dan’s gasp of pain, sees him try to raise his arms to protect his stomach. 

“No!” Arin screams, struggling madly as the next kick connects with the side of Dan’s head. The bite of the steel around his wrists is red and cold as he twists and struggles. _God, they’re going to kill him._

“Do you have anything else to say, Arin?” the big man asks calmly as he steps on Dan’s hair and drags his foot, jerking Dan’s head back. “Or are you going to shut up and be good?”

Arin shakes his head. This was his worst nightmare come to life. “I. I’ll be good. Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t hurt him. I love him. Please.”

“Well,” the leader says bluntly. “What are you willing to do to protect him?”

Arin closes his eyes. “Anything,” he says, and he means it. He’d never thought about it before but, with a cold rush of clarity, he knows that he would die for Dan.

“Good,” the captor replies, his yellow-stained teeth bared in a leer as his hand goes to the buckle of his belt.

**

Suzy still has blood beneath her fingernails from where she’d clawed into one of her captor’s arms. Her face is throbbing, one cheekbone bruised and puffy, probably turning purple already. She’s alone, in a small room on a narrow bed with a thin mattress and no sheets or blanket, a pillow that reeks of stale smoke beneath her head. The mattress doesn’t smell clean either, but it’s better than the floor, which is unspeakably filthy. The only other thing in the room besides the bed is an old sink and a steel toilet, like something that might be in a jail cell. 

Suzy had been locked in this room for one day and one night, going mad with her fear and worry for Arin. The water from the tap is a little murky, but her thirst quickly became overwhelming and she was forced to drink. Now her stomach is cramping with hunger but she barely notices beneath the crushing weight of terror.

They hadn’t hurt her badly since the day she was taken. She had little memory of the journey itself - she knew she’d been hauled into a van, where they’d bound her wrists and ankles, then blindfolded and gagged her. Arin had been tied up too, though he was unconscious from the drug they’d injected into him. She remembers staring at him before they’d put the blindfold on her. His head was lolling sickly, his lips parted, his forehead creased like he was in pain. She wanted to go to him, to hold him, to kiss his sweat-damp forehead, but she couldn’t. He didn’t wake up during the entire two-hour ride. And she hadn’t seen him since. Once the van stopped, Suzy’s ankles were untied and she had been led, shuddering and stumbling, into a house or building. She remembered climbing two staircases - slowly, being coaxed the whole way, certain that one of them was going to push her down the entire flight once she’d gotten to the top. Thankfully that hadn’t happened. Once she was in this room, they untied her, taken off the gag and blindfold, and slammed the door in her face.

She’d pounded on the door. She’d tried breaking the knob. She tried screaming until her throat burned. She kicked the walls, willing them to crack, wanting to break something and vent her rage.

Nobody had come for her. Until now.

She doesn’t even hear the door open. One minute she’s alone, and the next, she rolls over on her pathetic little cot and sees a huge, broad man standing by the door, smiling at her. His smile is sweet and a little condescending. She manages not to scream but her heart begins to jackhammer like crazy.

She recognizes him at once as one of the men who had broken into their home. He was the one who had held her arms as she tried to lunge at the man hurting Arin. There was a sick sort of lilac smell to him, like decaying flowers at a graveyard. A powerful pulse of energy flows through her, her brain forming patterns she’d never felt before. Adrenaline. Fight or flight. 

This man deliberately hurt Arin, broke into their home, kidnapped them both.

And he’s smiling. The bastard is _smiling._

_You motherfucker._

He stands maybe six foot four, towering over her, and his arms are corded with muscle, but suddenly that means nothing. She lunges at him, snarling, right fist snapping out to meet his jaw, and the impact feels explosively good. Her knuckles will hurt later, but for now the adrenaline masks the pain. His reflexes are quick and she only gets one more hit in, taking advantage of his shock to land a weaker punch with her left hand to his sternum. Then he’s grabbing her wrists, twisting her arm, coming in swiftly behind her and locking an arm around her neck, his weight bearing her down until she has to kneel painfully on the hard floor. His grip tightens and her vision pulses as she tries to get air into her lungs, gasping, panting -

“Stop,” he grunts, but she keeps moving, bucking, trying to throw him off. Suzy pitches forward and gets her hands on the ground, throwing her foot out behind her to kick him. Somehow, incredibly, she makes it to her feet and whirls around, facing him again. She backs up to the wall to get some distance between them. Raising her fists, she meets his dark stare with another snarl. She might be going down, but not without a fight.

“That’s enough, sweetheart,” he says in a slick patronizing voice. “Whoa there, whoa there. Calm down. You don’t want to get hurt.”

“Try me again,” she shoots back, a little amazed at her own bravado. Her spine feels like a live wire and her face feels hot and numb.

“Just calm down and stay still. Sit down on the bed.”

“Fuck you!” 

He _tsks_ and shakes his head. “Oh, Suzy. You don’t want me to have to kill Arin, do you?”

Suzy falters, all the fight going out of her.

“That’s better,” he says when she lowers her fists. “Sit on the bed, honey. Sit down and don’t raise your hands at me again or I’ll have to tie you up. I left you free because I thought you’d be the sensible one.”

Sensible, fuck, he thought she’d be weak because she’s a girl. It pains her to prove him right as she shakily approaches the bed with wobbly knees and sits down hard. There’s acid burning in her throat. She looks up but doesn’t move as he walks cautiously toward her. 

“That’s more like it.” His voice is soft and gentle, like he’s talking to a wild animal. “That’s how I like my women. Sweet and quiet and obedient. I don’t want to have to hurt you, baby. But you have to learn. You’re a clever girl, aren‘t you, Suzy? You’re not going to misbehave?”

His fingers trace over the bruise on her cheek and Suzy winces. Her heart is jack-hammering in her chest. The man’s sickly sweet tone and vague threats are more frightening to her than violence or shouts. 

“I know you’re scared, but I need you to answer me when I ask you a question, okay?” The man slides a hand beneath her chin and makes her look up into his face. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

Suzy thinks of the dull sound of the man’s heavy boot connecting with Arin’s stomach and the sick hacking noise he’d made as he struggled there on the ground, fighting to get to her. She thinks of Arin bloody and bruised, alone somewhere in this nightmarish place. Her lip trembles, and she nods, eyes brimming with tears as she murmurs, “Yes.”

“Good. That’s good. That will make this easier on everybody. Especially your husband.” His hand touches her hair, rubs down her cheek. His skin is rough and calloused and his fingers are bony and long. With every touch, he’s confirming Suzy’s guess at what he wants to take from her. She braces herself as best as she can as his eyes crawl over her body. She takes note of the man’s face, mentally saving every detail in her mind in case she escapes and can call the police.

He’s so ordinary looking that nobody would remember him after seeing him once. His hair is brown, plain brown, neither light nor dark; his eyes are brown, his skin is slightly tan. His nose is long and straight; his lips are on the full side, but not overlarge. Only his size is of any note; it’s obvious that he lifts weights as a hobby and not just at the gym. 

Suzy lowers her gaze and waits for the inevitable.

“Take your clothes off for me,” he says in that same soft voice. Suzy looks at him again and has to turn away in disgust when she sees him palming the bulge in his pants with his left hand.

But she obeys, for Arin’s sake. 

Suzy moves like a robot. Her shirt falls to the ground. Then her pants follow. Then came her bra, and when the cold air hits her bare chest, her nipples stiffen up and the man’s eyes kindle. She can’t stand it and she cups her arms around her chest. 

He doesn’t like that, and he _tsks_ again, reaching for her.

“Let me see you,” he croons as he forcefully pulls at her wrists. His grip is like iron and she can feel the brute strength in his arms. If he wanted to, if he kept pulling, her arms would come out of their sockets. She lets go in a hurry.

The man drops her wrists, entranced by her breasts. He cups them almost reverently, brushing his thumbs across her nipples. His fondling is gentle at first but quickly becomes clumsy in his excitement, and soon he abandons her chest to trail his hands down to the waistband of her panties. 

Suzy feels her eyes burning with suppressed tears as he slides them down her thighs. He cups her ass in his hands, then pulls her forward so she’s forced to step out of the leg-holes.

“That’s real nice, honey, real nice. All smooth for me down there, huh? You take good care of yourself. I like that in a woman.” He kneels down, kissing her navel on the way. When he noses at her sex he inhales deeply, smelling her, closing his eyes in apparent appreciation. The stubble on his chin bites into her thigh, and then there’s a soft wet tongue lapping at her. Suzy gasps in shock and tries to arch away but the man takes it as encouragement. 

He picks her up as easily as she might pick up a doll and lays her on the bed. She barely has time to collect herself before he’s on top of her, pushing her thighs open and burying his face between. She gets a firmer lick, and then another, and then he groans and plunges his tongue inside her.

It doesn’t feel good. It feels warm and slimy and invasive. He pushes her thighs apart and holds them open and goes in with sloppy enthusiasm, practically using his whole face. When he pulls back, his mouth and chin are shiny with spit and his dull brown eyes are lively and sparkling.

“You’re wet for me,” he says hoarsely. “Sopping wet, my good little girl.” But the finger he shoves inside her feels dry as a bone. It’s just the man’s spit that’s dripping from her; and she wants to tell him that to save a shred of dignity - but what would it matter? What did Suzy gain by antagonizing him when he already had her beat?

_Just give in. It’ll be over faster that way._

Even so, when he asks, “Do you like that?”, she can’t respond with a yes. She makes a little noise instead, and he takes it as agreement.

Without preamble, he climbs up her body and lays his weight on top of her, propped up on his elbows and staring down at her chest. Suzy can hear his breath coming hot and quick. The heat of his cockhead as it slides over her cunt makes her freeze with shock. She can’t move, can’t even wriggle. It’s _wrong_ , so wrong, this man deserves death or worse for doing this to another human being. 

_I could ask to suck him, and then bite him so hard he’ll never get it up again._

Oh, sure, that was a smart idea. This man wasn’t alone, and his friend had guns. 

_At least he wouldn’t rape you._

That wouldn’t stop him from torturing her in revenge. 

_For fuck’s sake, do something, don’t just lay there and take it! His eyes, go for his eyes -_

“Don’t go getting any ideas, Suzy,” he warns darkly. Her hatred must have been showing on her face. “If you don’t want it in your cunt, I could find somewhere else to put it, and it will hurt a lot more.” He pauses to see the effect this has on her, and when she tries to be brave by staying stony-faced, he adds, “Or I could use Arin instead.”

Suzy exhales like she’s been punched in the gut. For some reason, it hadn’t even occurred to her that they could easily use that form of torture on her husband, too. It would break him. She knew it would. And it would hurt…he’d been hurt so badly already…

“No,” she whispers. “You can have me. I’ll let you. Not him, never him, please...”

The man smiles. “I thought so.”

He takes her ankles and lifts them onto his shoulders, and it takes every ounce of self control for Suzy not to kick him in the face. The position feels so intimate and wrong. Nobody has ever seen her like this except for Arin. 

“Are you ready for my big cock, baby girl?”

_God, no. No, please._ But they would hurt Arin if she fought. She can’t fight. She can’t refuse. He would take her anyway, and punish Arin. There’s nothing to be gained by struggling. Suzy hates the idea of this man thinking she’s been broken so easily, but her pride isn’t as deep as her love for her husband. The only thing that could possibly save her now would be if this man - this monster - could find some shred of mercy in his twisted mind. Or maybe she could bargain with him. It’s a long shot, but hell, it’s all she has.

“Please,“ she manages to breathe. “You don’t have to do this. I can do - other things for you. If you let us go, I can help you. I won’t go to the cops, we won’t say anything, we can give you money - cash, thousands in cash, just for you, or for your friends too.” She looks up at him, her eyes baring her soul, begging silently for him to stop this madness, this utter violation of her being. His eyes are soft and warm as they gaze back, at odds with how he seems perfectly unconcerned at the sight of the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. This man doesn’t see her as a person. He sees her as a pretty object, an acquisition, a toy. It’s clear that he likes his new toy, but if he breaks it he can just get a new one.

“So pretty,” he murmurs to himself as he reaches down and positions himself at her entrance. “You’re so pretty and sweet. I’m a lucky man. We’re going to have so much fun together.”

She sobs once, catches and controls it, and turns her head to the side just as the man surges forward and breaches her with a shock of pain. He’s not that big, but she’s more tense than she’d realized, and it _hurts_. She closes her eyes, reminding herself to breathe. She’s never been a hysterical person, but she knows she’s at the end of her rope and if she starts sobbing again she’ll never stop. She doesn’t want to let the man know that he can drive her to that. He’s taking too much of her already. One tiny whimper escapes her clenched throat.

The small noise excites him. She can feel him shudder. “Relax, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m going to go nice and slow, warm you up.”

He stays true to his word and goes slow, his cock filling Suzy’s cunt inch by inch. Her empty stomach churns with disgust at the foreign and awful sensation. It’s always been Arin, nobody else but Arin, and every one of the countless times they’d done this, she had begged for it, wanted it, wanted to share this part of herself with him as he gave himself to her, the act mutual and wonderful, and when he was in her to the hilt it always felt like stars bursting behind her eyelids.

Suzy tries to imagine herself at home, in her own bed, with Arin safe and warm beside her. Arin pulling her into his arms. Tucking her head into his neck and breathing in the smell of his hair and skin and sweat. Waking up to grab a drink of water and then snuggling back in bed, being the big spoon, pressing her body against Arin’s from behind. She clings to the memories like a drowning woman clutching a life buoy, but she can’t hold onto her composure when her captor begins to thrust deeply. 

A cry slips out before she can stop it.

“Oh, yeah, that’s good, isn’t it, honey? You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this. Watching your adorable videos and listening to your cute little voice for hours, wishing I could make you mine…”

She almost retches. She can taste the salt as her own tears trickle down to the corners of her open mouth. Still, she doesn’t sob. She just lays limp and passive, giving him the toy he wants. 

He talks the whole time, and paws at her breasts with his spidery hands. Suzy tries not to listen to any of it. It’s mostly nonsense - murmurs of how tight she is, how good she feels, how pretty she looks. She tries not to look at his almost beatifically calm face as he violates her, but she does notice when his dull face suddenly twists with venom.

“You’re so wasted on _him_ ,” he hisses - and then, as quickly as it had come, his face smoothes back out into blandness again, and he kisses her cheek tenderly.

Eventually he stops talking and just grunts softly with every thrust. Suzy tries to think about home, remembers the way Arin looks when he sleeps, the feel of his broad, smooth back under her palms; she imagines being curled up beside him, safe and warm and happy. She tries to go away inside, escape to a place where she can’t be hurt.

But nothing works. The deep pain and humiliation keep her rooted firmly in the present. She’s hurt and hungry; she’s furious and she’s petrified; she’s alone, and she doesn’t know where Arin is but she knows he’s hurting and that he needs her. 

It doesn’t take long, thank God, maybe a few minutes at most, although they were the longest minutes of her life. His rhythm grows erratic and he pinches her nipple hard enough to make her groan. He moans right back, shoves himself deep, and goes rigid. Then he sighs and lets his upper body fall onto her. His weight is incredible.

“That was good,” he tells her in approval once his breathing had slowed. “Real good. I’ve waited so long, but it was worth it.” He mouths at her neck, pushes himself up to fondle her chest again playfully, then slips out wetly and climbs to his feet.

Suzy looks at the cracked plaster ceiling, thinking to herself in an almost detached way, _I’ll never get over this. This is what I’ll dream of in the dark when I’m alone, if I ever get home again._ It’s not that she feels dirty or used, exactly. Well - she does, but not in the sense of being spoiled goods or something. She’s never subscribed to the idea that her value was in any way linked to someone touching her or fucking her. It was the casual violence of the act that struck her. That someone could do such a horrible thing, and enjoy it - the notion that this man and others like him even existed - makes her feel hollow inside. She knows herself well enough to know that she’ll cry plenty in the future - but in fury, not sadness.

He puts his clothes back on, humming to himself but keeping one eye on her at all times. She doesn’t like that. It would be better if she could distract him, make him forget that she could be a threat. Suzy had pride, but if she could use the man’s lust for her to lower his guard, give her a chance to escape…

_I could do it. I will do it, if I can._

She had put her clothes on top of the closed toilet seat, which was cleaner than the floor. The man picks them up, but doesn’t hand them to her.

“These are all torn and dirty,” he says. “I’ll wash them for you.”

There’s nothing else to wear. There’s not even a sheet on the bed to cover herself with. It doesn’t matter. Suzy fights the urge to cover herself with her arms and looks at the ceiling again. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cower. She would do what he asked, to prevent herself from being killed or to prevent Arin being tortured; he could make her do pretty much anything. But he could not break her, not inside.

“I’ll bring you up some dinner in half an hour. Good girls get their reward.” He pauses and frowns. “What do you say when somebody does something nice for you, honey?”

His seed is trickling out of her and soaking into the mattress. God, she’ll have to sleep in it. She’s not hungry. She’s nauseous. She’ll probably gag on whatever food she tries to force down, but she knows she has to try and regain her strength if she wants to figure out how she’s going to get out of this. “Thank you,” she says blandly, thinking about trying to clean herself in the sink once he leaves.

The man looks pleased. “Is there anything you’d like to drink? Coffee, tea, juice?”

Her captor is in a good mood and she’s played her part well. Suzy has an idea. She forces herself to stay calm and docile, the way he wants her. “I…may I please see Arin? Can I go stay…wherever he is? Or talk to him? I want to tell him that I’m okay. I want to see him. Please…”

The captor‘s brow creases slightly and Suzy’s stomach drops. But all he says is, “Maybe later, honey. If you keep being so good, I bet we’ll let you see him real soon. And your other friend, too.” His sunny smile returns. “Now, you lay down and rest while I make your food. We’ll eat together, won’t that be nice? You’ve helped me work up quite an appetite.”

The door closes, and Suzy finally lets herself cry as much as she has to. 

_And your other friend, too,_ she remembers the man saying. Who did he mean? Who else was here? Who else…

Her head is spinning. Fighting another surge of nausea, she limps to the sink and cleans herself as best as she can. She thought sleep would never come but her eyes slam closed as soon as she lays back down. Minutes later, she’s out like a light, curled in on herself for warmth and comfort, her pale bruised face streaked with tears.


	2. 2

Dan lays flat on his back, staring up at a stained white ceiling, feeling drained and hollow inside. They’d taken the blindfold and gag off, and left his legs free, but his wrists are cuffed together above his head and attached to a metal ring bolted into the wall. The cuffs are tight and rigid. He’d lost feeling in his fingers hours ago and his face is drawn with pain. 

The room is drafty and cold and there’s no sheet or blanket on the bed. Dan’s shivering. He’s in a T-shirt and his boxers - the clothes he was wearing while lounging around his house on what was supposed to be a relaxing evening. Dan would not soon forget how hard the black-haired one had leered at him as his friends had forced Dan onto the bed and fastened the cuffs. 

“I’ll see you later, honey,” he’d whispered into Dan’s ear, and Dan’s stomach had crawled up into his throat.

For the thousandth time he wills himself to wake up from this nightmare. For the thousandth time, nothing happens. Nausea cramps his stomach and Dan closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth until it subsides. 

He had made it so fucking easy for them. He even let them walk right into his goddamn house. He felt so helpless, so _stupid_ , he always forgot to lock his fucking door because the latch turned in the opposite direction of the latch on his last place with Barry and now he always thought it was locked when it was open and vice versa. And then he’d gotten into the back of their van and he hadn’t even identified the make or model and he hadn’t looked for the license plate. 

Granted, they’d been armed. Dan had looked straight down the barrel of the gun and in that instant he saw himself shot dead, his body thrown in some dumpster, his name a headline on the morning news, his band trending on Twitter and Facebook with links to the details of the tragedy, his mother having to come identify his corpse - 

“Please don’t shoot,” he had tried to say calmly. He remembers how his voice sounded so strange and high-pitched. “Whatever you came for, you can have.”

The man with the soft voice had looked at him. Dan remembers that there was something off about his flat brown eyes. There was no depth to them, no human emotion; they were like the shiny plastic eyes of a doll. 

“Good,” the burglar said, calm and serene. “Then stand up and come with us. Quietly.”

So Dan had gone quietly. He didn’t yell. He didn’t make a fuss. He went blindly, stumbling and shuddering, his chest tight and his heartbeat racing. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference if he had screamed. Who would hear him? His nearest neighbours were gone on holiday, and the next closest neighbour spent his life either at work or on his back porch drinking beer. There was nothing he could do.

He only fought once. When it was time for him to climb willingly into the van with these three unknown and armed men, Dan’s knees locked and he would not do it. Could not do it. One of the captors had made a short noise of warning and in an instant they were surrounding him, blocking him from running. Not that he intended to do so - he had little doubt that they’d catch him easily.

But in he went, assisted none too gently. They roped his hands and ankles together, tied a blindfold over his eyes, and made him lay down on the dirty metal floor of their van. Two of the men sat in front, while the other - the one who had tied him up - stayed with Dan.

The man was wiry and handsome, with dull black hair and icy eyes. He hadn’t been holding the gun, but Dan had noticed him - mostly because of how hard he’d been staring at Dan. The look in his eyes had given him an awful gnawing horror in the pit of his stomach. 

The first time he touched Dan’s thigh, his hand splaying out to caress him almost casually, Dan couldn’t say anything. Horror and disbelief had stolen his voice. The second time, when his hand brushed Dan’s crotch, Dan had said quietly, “Please don’t,” his face burning as he realized how stupid he sounded, asking his fucking kidnapper so politely. The third time, Dan was pushed on his side, and the man ran his hand from between his shoulders to the cleft of his ass, and the shock of the violation made Dan blurt, “Get your fucking hands off of me!”

“Oh, listen to that,” the man called to his buddies up front. “He might be a fighter after all.”

“Think you can handle him all by yourself back there?” one of them called back, and they all laughed.

Dan’s hackles rose and he began to struggle against his bonds, spitting curses and trying to hide his mounting hysteria. All that fuss earned him was a foul-tasting rag shoved in his mouth and a murmured, “Shut up and save your energy, honey, you’ll need it later.” Dan was forced to put up with the casual fondling for the rest of the ride, his thoughts of dying eclipsed by this new and unheard of threat.

And it was this man - the man who could not keep his hands to himself - who finally greeted Dan some hours after his arrival at their strange house, as Dan lay helpless and restrained, at complete mercy to his captors.

“Hey, Danny,” the man says calmly, his smile not reaching his eyes. “I told you I’d come back.”

Dan flinches at the use of his nickname. _They know me. They know who I am._ He doesn’t answer. 

The man does not seem perturbed. Dan shivers again as he walks slowly around the bed, his eyes crawling over Dan’s body. “I was sorry to have to leave you, but there was another errand that we had to run. I’m glad to say that it went smoothly. All of our little birdies are in their cages.” He cups Dan’s jaw in his hand, then trails his fingers through his curls. “You sure are a pretty one,” he says admiringly.

Dan kicks at him as he makes his way to the foot of the bed, but the man dodges easily. 

“Look at those legs. Goddamn.” The man is nearly as thin as Dan, but he’s able to grab Dan’s ankles and hold them firmly even as Dan struggles to break free. The man laughs, spreads Dan’s legs apart and kneels on the bed between them.

Dan nearly chokes on his own tongue. _No, no. Oh, God, no. Not this._

“Relax, honey,” the man says, patting Dan’s thigh. “You look like you’re gonna pass out. And what fun would that be?”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Dan doesn’t mean to sound so fucking broken, but he can’t help it. What did he do to deserve this? Why did this man hate him so badly?

“Why not?” The man leans down and Dan cringes when he feels the man’s breath on his face. “The others aren’t nearly as pretty as you, not even the girl.” He presses a kiss to Dan’s throat and runs his tongue over Dan’s Adam’s apple. “If you satisfy me, I’ll go real easy on you.”

 _They’ve kidnapped other people._ Dan’s heart aches in sympathy and a lump forms in his throat. He hopes the girl is okay, whoever she is. 

The man continues blithely, his hands smoothing down Dan’s sides to rest on his waist. “I’ve never liked girls, even the good-looking ones,” he confesses. “They’re not nearly as much fun. Once they know what’s going to happen, they just lay back and spread their legs and take it. Deep down they all know what they’re made for. And most of ‘em have already been broken in.”

“That’s sick.” Dan recoils as if burned. He looks at the man with revulsion in his eyes, his own predicament temporarily forgotten. 

“It’s the truth,” the captor shrugs. “Some people don’t mind taking someone else’s leavings, but I’d rather do the breaking-in part myself.”

“No.” Dan can’t say anything else. His ears are ringing and his mouth is so dry. He shakes his head and struggles until the cuffs bite at his wrists so hard that he has to stop.

“No, what?” The captor pushes Dan’s legs up and runs his hand down the back of one of his thighs, shoving his boxers up so he can feel the slight curve of Dan’s ass. “You’re not a virgin? You let someone else pop your cherry already?” He laughs heartily. “Was it that other guy in your dumb little band?”

Dan shakes his head again, his face burning.

“Was it Arin?” The man’s hand is worming it’s way under Dan’s boxers, fingers groping at his cleft. “Maybe that’s why he let a talentless nobody join his stupid Internet show, huh? I always thought it was weird for him to offer you money to get your band off the ground. What did you do to earn it, Danny?”

It’s stupid to get riled up over this, but Dan’s so overwhelmed with fear that he can’t help his emotional bursts. “Stop,” Dan whispers. “It’s not - it’s not funny.” To hear this man make dirty jokes about one of the nicest things anyone’s ever offered to do for him was unbearable.

“I hope he got his money’s worth. Did he put it in your ass, or was he satisfied with this pretty mouth of yours?”

“I’ve never,” Dan’s mouth opens and closes as he grasps for words. “I’ve never - nobody’s ever - ”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.” The groping fingers finally touch Dan in the place where nobody has ever touched him before. Dan clenches up, his terror skyrocketing, but the man only rubs a dry thumb over the tight hole. “You’ll be so good and tight. You should be happy that I’m gonna get in there first. The boss isn’t exactly what you’d call gentle.”

“Please, _please_ , don’t do this.” His chest is heaving and his head feels foggy and light, like he’s about to faint. If he passes out now, he has no doubt that the captor will still have his way with him. Dan wonders if that might not be the kindest solution. “Don’t hurt me like this. Don’t - don’t rape me. Please.” With great effort he gathers all the wits he has. “My family and friends will pay. Cash. No questions asked. I won’t call the police. Let me make a phone call and we can work out all the details. I’ll forget this happened.”

“I have all the money I want, baby. Besides, this isn’t my doing. You’d have to bargain with the boss…but after all the trouble he took to get all of you, you might as well save your breath.”

The tears come then, rolling down Dan’s face and dripping into his hair.

The man watches Dan’s terror with clear amusement on his face. “Don’t worry, honey,” he says patronizingly. “I’m not supposed to fuck you yet. I’m supposed to save you for later, when we have an audience. The boss has it all planned out.”

 _Oh, dear God._ This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be his life.

“I just wanted to spend some time with you before the show starts.” He finally lets Dan’s legs down, but he puts his hands on Dan’s stomach instead where his shirt had ridden up. “Test out the merchandise.” The hands slide upward, pushing Dan’s shirt up past his nipples. “You should try to enjoy it. I can be very gentle if you keep me in a good mood.”

Dan makes a muffled cry as the man mouths at one of his small nipples, his tongue flicking over the little bud until it hardens. The man pulls back and puffs a breath of air over the damp skin and Dan’s body responds, the sensitive flesh puckering until it feels hard as a diamond. Dan grapples with the contrast of the nausea and fear with the pleasurable sensation; the result is almost like pain. To his other nipple, the man applies his teeth, nibbling harder and harder until Dan gives in and cries out, “ _Stop_ , it hurts.” Obligingly, his captor uses his tongue instead, and by the time he’s done Dan’s chest is dotted with red love-bites and his nipples are aching.

The captor looks at Dan. His pupils are blown and Dan can see his reflection there, his frightened face ghastly-white. “Goddamn,” the captor groans. “I can’t wait to have all of you.” He buries his face in Dan’s neck, breathing heavily, and then suddenly his weight is gone and he’s rolling off the bed in a hurry.

Dan closes his eyes like he can make it all go away, but the loud _clink_ of the man’s belt and the rustling noise as he drags the fabric down his leg seem as loud as cannon fire. When he opens his eyes again the man is in his boxers, a prominent bulge tenting the front.

“Look what you do to me,” he says, gesturing. Dan turns his face away, disgusted. How could anyone become aroused at tormenting another human being like this? The thought alone makes him want to puke.

The man does not like it. “I said _look at me_ ,” he commands, and Dan gives a short shake of his head.

“I don’t want - I don’t want to - don’t make me - ”

In a flash, the man is back on the bed, shuffling forward until he’s straddling Dan’s upper chest. He places his hands on the wall and leans forward. His clothed dick rubs Dan’s cheekbone and Dan’s next breath comes out with a sob.

“I don’t,” Dan tries again. “Please, please, leave me alone, I don‘t want this. I can’t do this.”

The man takes one hand off the wall and cups himself, a bare inch from Dan’s face. “You don’t like it?” he asks mockingly, guiding his cock to rub smoothly up Dan’s cheek. “Is it too big for you?”

Dan turns his head to the side with a little noise of disgust. 

“Oh, is that right? You think you can get away?” The man shoves his hips forward, pressing his junk right up in Dan’s face. The next breath Dan takes in reeks of sweat and musk and he nearly gags. He can hear his captor chuckling as he grinds down against Dan’s face. All Dan can do is try to breathe without vomiting.

The captor finally pulls back, laughing to see Dan’s watering, horrified eyes. His hand goes to the opening in his boxers and he gropes around until he gets his cock out through the hole. It nudges against Dan’s chin, steel wrapped in velvet, the tip wet and slick.

Dan hates himself for it, but he starts to fucking cry again. He’s never felt this much anger before and he doesn’t know where to channel it. He’s pretty sure he knows what the man wants him to do, and Dan’s also pretty sure that he’ll have to give it to him. He could plead or fight or scream, but he can’t run. If he does take a stand and refuse, he’s sure the man will torture him until he gives in.

“Stop being such a little bitch,” his captor laughs. “Come on. You look ugly when you cry like that. Smile for me, be a good boy.”

 _Just fight. He can’t hurt you that much more than he’s already planning to._ Dan thinks about saying yes, and then biting down. But the thought of having that thing in his mouth is so abhorrent that Dan’s mind recoils. He waits until the man grinds forward again, practically humping Dan’s face now, and Dan tries to wait for an opportunity to do something.

It comes shortly. The man’s hands slip from the wall and he lists heavily to the side. And Dan seizes his chance, rears his head up, and sinks his teeth into the man’s thigh.

He bites harder than he would have thought possible. The force breaks the skin and blood gushes into his mouth. It feels disgusting, tearing into live flesh like this, but he forces himself to bear it and latches on more tightly. He wants to hurt this miserable excuse for a man.

His captor yells so loud that Dan’s surprised the window doesn’t crack. He leaps off Dan in a hurry, staggering into the wall and holding his hand to the wound. Blood seeps through his fingers. 

_I did that,_ Dan thinks to himself, amazed and horrified at once. He’d never even been in a fight before. His veins feel like they’re filled with fire, pumping heat and energy into his limbs. 

“You fucking cunt,” the man snarls, grasping at his thigh. There is no more laughter in his voice. The amused look on his face is gone. “Son of a fucking bitch, you’re gonna get it for that. You are going to be so, so sorry.”

There’s a crunching noise, and suddenly Dan’s face feels hot and wet. The pain hits him a moment later, as does the realization that blood is pouring out of his nose. Dazed, he tries to raise his hands to his nose to feel if it had broken, momentarily forgetting they were still cuffed together. His eyes are watering so badly that he doesn’t have time to anticipate the next punch, or the one after that. The man hits him in the jaw, hits him again in his ear, just blindly throwing his punches downward. A terrifying alarm goes off in his brain as his body receives the message that it is being attacked very vigorously. Dan’s legs are kicking on their own accord but the man stays outside their range, hurling abuse at him.

“You want to push me, huh?” he’s shouting, pressing his arm against Dan’s windpipe and leaning his weight down on it until Dan gasps for air. “You think I’m fucking around? You think you can fight your way out of this? You bite me again and I’ll rip out your goddamn teeth and shove my cock down your throat while you choke on your own blood.”

“Stop,” Dan manages. He has no way to protect his face, his stomach, his important organs. He takes a blow to the ribs that paralyzes his lungs and leaves him unable to scream as the next hit lands in the centre of his stomach. Dan gags and tastes vomit in the back of his throat. His legs are still kicking feebly. _Help me, oh, someone help me, it hurts so much._

The man is not calming down. He’s working himself up into a fury and there’s nothing handsome nor even human about his face any longer. “I’ll kill you,” he nearly screams. “I’ll fuck you and then I’ll kill you and then I’ll fuck you again while your corpse is still warm. I’ll make a video of it and send it to your family, and I’ll tell them they could have still had you alive if you weren’t such a fucking idiot.”

_God help me, he’s telling the truth. I’m going to die. He’s going to beat me to death. Oh, god, please no -_

The last blow Dan feels connects with his temple, and then the world goes fuzzy and fades to black. 

**

When he comes to, there’s another man with him - the big one with the calm voice. Dan hears him talking and can barely focus on it as all his aches and pains come back with a vengeance. 

“…said you could punish him to keep him in line, but not cause any lasting damage,” he was saying angrily. “I like his face. More importantly, the boss likes his face. Try not to fuck it up, okay?”

“Little slut needed it,” the first man - Dan’s attacker - shot back. “It’ll make him easier to deal with, believe _me._ I scared the living shit out of him. I could see it in his eyes.”

“Did you, now.” The big man sounds bored.

“They need to be beaten a little. It teaches them a lesson. Otherwise, they’ll never do as they’re told.”

“I disagree,” the calm, large man says almost airily. “They’ll all behave once they see their friends get hurt. You remember how mad my girl was after she saw us tackle her husband? She was like a little firecracker. But all we had to do was kick him around a little and she was such a good girl all the way here.”

Dan feels a deep, stabbing pain in his ribcage and he groans out loud before he can help himself.

“He’s awake,” the big man says, unnecessarily.

“Good,” the wiry one says. “Help me with him.”

The cuffs around Dan’s wrists come undone and he groans again as a terrible pain zings through his hands. All the blood is rushing back into them and they feel heavy and fat and useless. He feels himself being lifted and set on his feet and his arms dangle uselessly at his sides.

“Can you walk?”

Dan can’t think. He’s still half-under, feeling like he’s trapped in a nightmare. One of the captors gives him a push and Dan tries to move his feet, but his legs buckle and fold.

The big man catches him easily and supports him as if he were no heavier than a mannequin. “Easy now,” he says. “I’ve got you. Go on his other side,” he adds, to the black-haired man. “Help me get him down…”

Dan doesn’t know if he should fight the overwhelming urge to faint again. He doesn’t know where they’re taking him, but he knows it’s not anywhere good. His imagination torments him as he’s brought down a wooden staircase, through a dismal-looking living room, and in through a door to yet another staircase. The smell of mildew and damp overwhelms him and his stomach lurches. He thinks of all the horrors they could inflict on him, thinks of both of these men taking him in the way the wiry one wanted to, maybe at the same time. 

But he’s not prepared at all for what he sees when he opens his eyes.

 _No. No, not him. Not him too. Oh, God._

“Arin…”

Dan’s world begins to spin, round and round, and he can’t focus on what’s happening anymore. The captors are conversing with each other, and Dan doesn’t hear a word. He barely registers the pain when the two men drop him unceremoniously on the bare cement floor. Dazed, he tries to sit up, only to be forced back down by the pressure of a foot on his neck.

They had taken Arin. His best friend, his hero, one of the most inspirational and amazing people Dan’s ever met. They had taken him, they had hurt him; and worst of all, they want to violate him in the worst way Dan could imagine. Arin was bound hand and foot - still fully clothed, thank god, they hadn’t hurt him like that, at least not yet - and his eyes when they saw Dan were so bleak and empty that it turned Dan’s stomach.

“No,” he moans into the floor as he heard the captor taunting Arin. Arin’s voice sounds so raw, so defeated, and it hurts more than the blows that begin to rain down on him once again. Time is passing in a weird and jerky way.

Suddenly, through the fog, the wiry man orders, “Dan, stand up.”

Dan tries. He really does. It hurts to breathe - they’d kicked him in the ribs so hard he’s sure one of them is cracked - and the pain in his head grows when he slowly rises to a sitting position. It’s the best he can do, but the man isn’t pleased.

“Get him on his feet,” he orders, and the big man with the weird creepy eyes and the black-haired man hurry to obey. The big one gets to him first and grabs Dan by the hair so hard that he yelps. Dan hurriedly gets his feet under him before his fucking scalp is ripped off. Back on his feet, Dan wavers back and forth unsteadily, trying to peer over the big man’s shoulder to see Arin. The captor is talking to him firmly, repeating something over and over, but his voice fades to a staticky hum in Dan’s head as he catches a glimpse of the leader with his belt and fly undone, his hand in Arin’s tangled silky hair. It’s even worse seeing it about to happen to Arin.

_No, no, no, no -_

A slap to his cheek snaps him out of his daze. “Are you fucking deaf?” the black-haired man bellows at him. Dan blinks blearily and looks from him to the big man in front of him.

“For the last time, take your fucking clothes off,” he orders, and Dan’s mouth opens with shock.

“No,” he says before he can think. He gets another backhanded slap across the mouth and hears Arin groan as if he were the one that was struck. 

“You said you wouldn’t - you said, you _said_ ,” Arin is babbling, his voice so high Dan barely recognizes it.

The black-haired man moves forward with a leer on his face. “I’ll cut them off.” He procures a knife from his pocket and flicks the blade out. “If he stays nice and still, it won’t even hurt.”

“No,” the leader interjects suddenly, as Dan freezes with terror at the sight of the blade. “Wait a minute. I have an idea.”

The black-haired man’s face lights up, but then he frowns as his boss takes a key out of his pocket and unlocks Arin’s right leg. “You’re gonna have them both loose down here?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the leader grunts, moving to Arin’s other leg. “This is the only one that could do any damage, and he knows we’ll kill his friend if he does. And he knows he’ll never see his wife again.”

Arin sobs in pain as his arms are released and Dan winces in sympathy. He remembers the feeling of his own cuffs being taken off - like his hands were surrounded by hot staples digging into his flesh as the blood rushed back into the nearly-numb tissue. It takes Arin a while to be able to sit up. Dan feels a sinking feeling in his stomach as he wonders what the men had already done to him. 

“He just woke up,” the black-haired man tells Dan with a small smile. “He’s been unconscious for a long time. Too long. We thought we might have shot him up with too much sedative. We had to knock him out, a big guy like that. I mean, I know he‘s mostly just fat, but it was pretty clear that he wasn’t going to come peacefully. We thought he‘d be out for maybe an hour or two, but he was just dead to the world until about…oh, fifteen minutes ago.”

“Well, I’m glad he didn‘t upset all my plans by dying on us so soon,” the leader says as he takes Arin’s arm and yanks him off the mattress. 

“Two out of three isn’t bad,” the big man adds quietly, almost to himself. 

The leader snorts. “Don’t mind him, Arin, he’s just jealous of you. He has a thing for your wife.”

Arin reels and nearly falls again just as he gets to his feet. “Suzy,” he whimpers. “Don’t…don’t ever hurt her like this. Oh, God, please.”

Dan feels his own eyes filling with tears as he connects the dots. _They took three people….they took us, and a girl, he said…the girl was_ Suzy _…oh, God…_

And he had heard the big man speak of her in such a disgustingly intimate way…

“Come help us, Arin,” the leader says, mocking. “Dan’s having a little help getting his clothes off for us. Help him.”

“I’ll do it,” Dan pleads, but it’s too late. When he starts trying to get his shirt off, his arms are seized.

“Arin!” the leader snaps.

When Arin doesn’t move, the leader grabs him by the shoulder and shoves him forward. Arin goes, stumbling, almost smashing right into Dan. Dan throws his arms out just in time, and then he’s wrapping Arin in a hug. He feels Arin’s chest heave, feels his arms lock gently around Dan’s lower back. 

“Arin,” Dan whispers. “Oh, _Arin_.”

“They hurt you,” Arin chokes out into Dan’s neck. “They were fucking torturing you. Fuck, Danny.”

“I’m fine,” Dan soothes. He isn’t, not by a long shot, but the lie comes to him naturally. 

“I don’t want to do this to you.”

“I know,” Dan says. He doesn’t want to be stripped naked either, but he can’t see a way out of this. “But if we don’t - ”

“They’ll hurt you.”

“They’ll hurt both of us.” Dan cares more about what they might do to Arin. 

Arin pulls his face back and looks at Dan. “Did they…did they already make you…”

Dan knows what he’s asking. He shakes his head, and Arin lets out the breath he was holding.

“Touching,” the leader’s brusque voice cuts in, “but we don’t have all day. Arin, get a move on.”

Dan feels the captors looking at him eagerly. He focuses on Arin to take his mind off their audience. He gives a little nod as Arin reaches for him - _it’s okay, you have to, I don’t blame you for it._

Arin is so gentle with him. He grips the hem of Dan’s shirt, looking pained, and lifts it up so gingerly that Dan might have been a house of cards that would collapse at the barest suggestion of a touch. His shirt comes off, and he hears Arin make a little noise when he sees Dan’s bruised chest with the obvious hickeys and bite marks dotting his pecs. 

“Oh, Danny,“ he says, so softly. Arin’s face is so pale. His eyes can’t meet Dan’s. “I’m sorry,” he whispers as his fingers hook over the waistband of Dan’s underwear. “I’m so sorry.”

Dan knows he should reassure him, but he can’t. His boxers come down and he steps out of them mechanically. He wants to hide, to cover himself, but he thinks that will just make them laugh at him. He’s so scared that his fear is spiralling into hysteria and he almost laughs himself. There’s a second where the edge of his vision starts to go grey - and then the next thing he knows, Arin is catching him in his strong arms.

“Dan, fuck.” Arin’s voice cracks. “Please be okay, please. Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Dan breathes, disoriented. He blinks as the room comes back into focus.

“He’s just scared,” someone broke in impatiently. “Fights like a girl and faints like one too, jesus.”

 _Did_ he faint? Dan suddenly notices that all the men are standing in different places and, with a start, realizes that he _had_ been out…at least for a short while.

Arin’s fingers are touching his hair, looking for the wound, obviously worried that it wasn‘t just fainting from being overly hysteric. Dan winces when he touches the goose egg lump there.

“Why don’t you give him a kiss to make him feel better?” the leader grins.

Dan can see the fire flash in Arin’s face. But he’s learned his lesson about angering their captors, and he says nothing.

“Do it. I’m not kidding.”

Arin leans in and brushes Dan’s mouth dryly with his own. Dan barely has time to feel it.

“What was that?” the leader laughs. “You call that a kiss?”

“I’ll show him how it’s done,” the black-haired man offers, seemingly over his short rage at Dan for biting him.

Dan thinks he should be helping somehow. It’s not fair to make Arin do everything. It’s making Arin feel guilty, which is stupid because he’s only trying protect Dan. When Arin looks at him and hesitates, Dan straightens up and moves in first. He tilts his head and Arin takes the cue and meets him halfway.

Maybe it’s sick to take comfort in something so grotesque; they’re being forced to do this to amuse three disturbed men who had every intention of harming them. But Arin tastes like home, and his lips are soft, and Dan can feel the tenderness in the kiss. He cups the back of Dan’s neck and rubs him there briefly, comfortingly. Arin cares about him so much. Tears prickle at Dan’s eyes as he wonders if this will be the last time they’ll ever see each other. After all, it seems foolish to believe that the men will just thank them for their time and send them on home. They would have kept the blindfolds on at least so neither of them could identify their attackers…

 _But,_ the faint optimistic voice in Dan’s head speaks up timidly, _what was the point of blindfolding you on the way here? What would it matter if you knew where you were going?_ He clings to the thought, but he doesn’t truly believe there’s any hope.

Arin breaks the kiss, and Dan opens his eyes to see Arin looking right at him.

“It’s okay,” Dan murmurs, because he can tell Arin feels like shit for doing this - stripping him bare, kissing him at the request of their kidnapper - and he hates the thought of Arin suffering more than he has to. 

“It’s not,” Arin mutters back, his eyes flicking to the ceiling. 

_Suzy’s up there somewhere,_ Dan remembers, and he grabs Arin’s hand and squeezes it. What else can he do?

“I love you,” he tells Arin.

Arin blinks back tears. Dan can see the wetness in his eyes. “I love you, too, Danny.”

The men are looking restless. There’s grins and elbow-bumping all around, as if they’re about to tell a good joke. Dan feels the fear grip his throat again and is almost used to the way he has to fight it down in order to be able to breathe.

“All right, Arin,” the leader says. “Back to business. Here’s how this is gonna go. You are going to get on your knees. You’re going to suck my dick. If you refuse, or if you fight, or if I feel any teeth, my friend over there is going to take his knife and get creative. He likes blood. It gets him excited, if you know what I mean. If you get him really worked up - if you fuck up enough that he has to cut Dan a few times to get you back on track - he’ll likely have to use Dan to get himself off. And I will make you watch. After, you’re still getting my dick - and if you won’t take it in your mouth, I can definitely think of somewhere else to stick it.”

Arin nods. His colour changes from white to green, but there’s something steady in his eyes that fills Dan with admiration.

“You understand?”

“Yes,” Arin says, without emotion.

“Then get on your knees and get to work.”

Dan blinks and suddenly the man’s pants are down and his cock is out.

Slowly, Arin kneels, his head bowed. 

Dan closes his eyes. This is only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for the kudos!  
> I understand that you may not want to comment on this with your account, but if you'd like me to continue, please leave anon comments!  
> I won't reply because they show up in my account's inbox but just know I read and appreciate every single one.


	3. 3

“That’s it,” a raspy, smoke-hardened voice murmurs, oversweet and condescending. “You’re a quick learner, aren’t you, Arin?” 

Arin winces as rough, calloused fingers glide through his hair in a sick mockery of tenderness. He can feel the way his hair is slow to fall back into place – it's greasy, damp with the sweat of his own terror and the exertion of struggling against his bonds. Never in his life had Arin felt so fucking filthy. 

But that had less to do with his physical cleanliness than it did with the fact that he was on his knees, his hand wrapped loosely around another man's dick, sucking on the disgusting cockhead of the man that had hurt his wife, tormented his best friend, and threatened both of their lives. 

Somewhere in this building, his wife is alone and scared. Arin has to behave - he has to be good and give them what they want - he has to believe that there’s still a way for him to save her. He has to believe that he can save Dan. Neither of them deserve this. They’re both too sweet, too pure, too selfless. Arin’s own life is a distant third on his list of priorities. And as for his dignity, comfort and well-being - he’s ready to sacrifice them all.

He keeps his eyes shut tight. He can't block out the smell – he has to breathe through his nose, with his mouth full – and he can't block out the awful sounds of the man breathing harshly and grunting with pleasure, but at least he can keep his eyes closed and try to focus on the task at hand. He has to do a good job. Failure is not an option. He'd love nothing more than to bite down as hard as he could, chomp right through the shaft and leave this piece of shit with a bloody stump, but there are more important things than his own comfort and well-being.

Dan is crying. It feels like a knife twisting into Arin's soul. Even with the other two guys joking and laughing and making disparaging comments, Dan's quiet hitched breathing and shuddery exhales are louder to Arin than anything else. Arin can't stop thinking of Dan's huge, terrified eyes, or the way he had cringed when Arin had been forced to strip his clothes off. 

The images swim round and round in his head until he’s dizzy. Whatever sedative they’d shot him up with hasn’t fully left his body and Arin still feels weak and lightheaded.

He fights the unsteadiness by focusing as hard as he can. He has to do this. He has to protect Dan.

“Such a good cocksucker,” the man croons, giving Arin's hair a tug. “Clumsy, but you'll get better.”

“You gonna let us help him practice, right, boss?” asks the thin black-haired man. “We can turn him into a pro for you.”

The third man – the big one – laughs, too. 

“I'm a generous man,” says the boss. “You can do whatever you like to this one after I'm done with him. Mind you, I’ll take a while. I want more than just his sweet mouth.”

“We could share,” the big man offers, with a malignant grin. Arin’s skin crawls. All of the men are disgusting, but the big one makes him feel sick to his stomach. There’s a smell hanging around him, a clotted sick smell like blood and death mixed with perfume. Flowers in a coffin. 

“You in front and me in back?” The boss laughs uproariously. “Sure, why not?”

Arin won’t think about it - he won’t - he needs to do this right, to do this for Dan.

“What about me?” the other man breaks in, sounding almost sulky. “Do I get this one?” His comment is punctuated by a sob from Dan, to which the black-haired man immediately replies with, “Shut _up_ , you useless cunt, if you’re gonna cry I’ll give you something to cry about.”

Dan whimpers. He sounds terrified. “ _Please,_ ” he whispers.

Arin freezes, his blood going cold. He hadn't heard the impact of a punch or kick, but he imagined the man digging his knife into Dan's throat, or running the edge of the blade over his naked body as Dan tried to stay as still as he could. _Please don't hurt him any more. God, he can't take anymore, please don't kill him._

The boss suddenly juts his hips forward, fucking deep into Arin's mouth. Arin gags wetly and tries to rear back but the grip on his hair holds him in place. 

“Concentrate on me, whore,” the boss snaps. “You know what will happen to your friend if you fuck this up.”

“Don't listen to him, Arin,” the black-haired man jokes. “I can't wait to break in this pretty little plaything.”

“On my orders only,” the boss warns, and if Arin had been looking up he would see the way the black-haired man's eyes narrow briefly.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “of course, boss.”

“Don't get your hopes up too much. This one's a fast learner. Look at his cheeks, going hollow like that, he knows how to suck.”

Arin's face burns, but doesn't care about being humiliated. Nothing could be worse than Dan being hurt right before his eyes because Arin had failed. He keeps his lips over his teeth and flexes his tongue, rubbing it on the underside in an attempt to replicate some of the things that he knows feel good on himself. 

“There's a good boy,” the man says in a sickly-sweet tone, patting Arin on the head like a dog. “You like this, huh? You like the taste of my dick?”

Arin, conscious of Dan's terror, nods as best as he can and sucks harder. As long as he's moving his head and his tongue, it seems to be doing the trick. When he pulls back and rubs his tongue over the head, he can taste a sharp salty tang. The tip is slick with pre-come and the consistency reminds Arin unpleasantly of mucus. 

“Damn, that feels good,” the man breathes, and suddenly his hand is pushing Arin's head down. The thick head of his cock rams into the back of Arin's throat. Arin panics when he tries to suck in air through his nose and realizes that his airway is completely blocked.

“Shh, shh, relax your throat, just swallow around me and hold your breath.”

It won't fucking fit down his throat. And he's never been good at holding his breath. His fear grows and grows, turning primal, adrenaline pumping as his instinct to survive kicks in hard. He strains backward against the pressure of the hand in his hair without success, and then, without thinking, he pushes hard at the man's hip. The man says something warningly but Arin doesn't hear. He needs oxygen, oh God, he needs to fucking _breathe_ , his lungs are burning and his throat is spasming and the room is starting to spin. A horrble hacking sound comes from the back of his throat. His face turns hot and his hands turn cold – his eyelids explode in fiery colourful bursts – God, he's going to pass out, and they won't be happy with him, he'll have failed, he'll have failed to protect the people he loves -

“ _No!_ ” he dimly hears Dan scream. “Why are you hurting him, he's doing what you asked!”

“Don't raise your voice, sweetie. Stay still.”

“He's fucking doing what you wanted, you sick bastard, don't choke him!”

There's a _thump_ and a cry, a brief struggle – and then a scream.

“You gotta be a little more careful,” the man holding Arin admonishes. “Who's gonna stitch him up if you go too deep like that?”

“I didn’t mean to get his wrist,” the black-haired man says defensively. “I was going to give him a little slice on the hip, to make him shut up, and the stupid bitch tried to block it with his arm. He’s fine though.”

Arin's mind is hazy but he comprehends what just happened with a sickening swoop in his stomach. He panics and twists his head to the side, trying to see Dan, to make sure Dan’s okay, and in the process his bottom teeth scrape hard against the underside of the man's shaft.

His captor shouts. A curse, a wordless noise of rage, Arin isn’t sure. Suddenly Arin is pushed backward, hard. He sprawls on his back, smashing his head against the concrete, but it doesn't matter because he can breathe, he can finally breathe and he can think, but all he can think is that they've hurt Dan. Arin rolls to the side, ignoring the spike of pain that jolts through his head, and sees Dan, limp and pale, being held by the black-haired man. The blood flowing down his arm is a brilliant burgundy colour in the dingy lighting. Arin’s stomach turns over. There’s so fucking much of it, all over Dan’s arm, his hand, running in rivulets around his bony knuckles, dripping onto the floor - and the black-haired man is touching the wound, his face stretched in a leer as he brings his bloody finger to his mouth and sucks it clean.

“Oh, my God,” Arin croaks, and the black-haired man’s eyes meet his. He smiles at Arin crookedly.

Then all of Arin’s breath is knocked from his lungs as a hard boot kicks him firmly in the stomach.

“Arin,” the boss says, almost pleasantly, “what did I tell you would happen if I felt teeth?”

Arin, hacking and coughing, tries to sit up and gets shoved back down.

“I asked you a question, Arin.”

“Don’t,” Arin whispers when he’s gotten enough air to speak. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please don’t. Don’t let him - ”

“What did I tell you would happen?”

Arin stares at the floor. “I…that you would…have your friend hurt Dan.”

“That’s right, you stupid fuck,” the boss agrees. “I also said that I would let him use Dan to get off if you fucked up badly enough. Given that Dan can’t follow simple instructions, and _you’re_ too useless even to suck dick right, I’m gonna be a man of my word. It seems both of you have earned a hard fucking lesson.”

The black-haired man grabs Dan by the hips, yanking him forward and pressing their bodies flush together. Dan yelps and strains backward like he’s been burned.

“You feel that, baby?” the black-haired man croons to him, so close that his lips are nearly touching Dan’s. “Feel how hard I am for you? Remember how big it is?”

Dan’s chest is rising and falling rapidly. “I - I don’t - please don’t - ”

“You’re even stupider than your big friend over there, aren’t you?” laughs the black-haired man. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty, honey.”

Dan turns his head to the side as the man leans in to kiss him.

The man doesn’t like that. He grabs Dan by the shoulder and thrusts him away to arms’ length. Then he gives Dan a hard backhand slap across the face. The _crack_ of the impact echoes through the room and makes Arin feel like he’s been punched in the chest. 

“Don’t fucking turn away from me,” the black-haired man hisses. “Don’t you fucking _dare_. Playtime is over, honey, and you’re gonna give me what I want. I want to taste your sweet little mouth before I fill it with my dick.”

“Please,” Arin gasps, watching as the black-haired man grabs the back of Dan’s head and kisses him sloppily. “Let me do it instead, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. Please, I’m fucking begging you, don’t touch him.”

“Cute,” the boss breaks in, sounding bored. “Whatever he wants, huh? You said that to me and ended up biting me, so how can he trust you? Now we have to do things the hard way.”

Dan isn’t even struggling anymore. He’s cringing, but he’s staying limp, letting the black-haired man caress him. The man makes eye contact with Arin as he slides his hand down Dan’s hip, and then around to squeeze a handful of Dan’s ass. Dan jumps, his mouth falling open, and all the men laugh.

“Can I fuck him too?” the black-haired man asks the boss excitedly, and Dan visibly shudders.

“Control yourself. Not yet. I told you that you’d get your chance. It’s my turn to have some fun.”

“You could have him first,” the black-haired one offers, holding Dan out to him like he’s a toy. “Since your slut didn’t get you off.”

“They’re both mine.” There’s a dangerous note to the boss’s voice now. “All three of them are mine.”

A wave of nausea grips Arin’s stomach.

“I know, I know, but you let _him_ have - ”

The boss’s eyes flash, and the black-haired man shuts his mouth fast. The other man - the huge one - smirks, looking pleased with himself. 

“He did very good work for me,” the boss says, nodding at the big one.. “He earned a reward.”

“I helped too. I was the one who watched Dan all the way here, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, because he was _such_ a fighter,” laughs the big man. “You just wanted to feel him up.”

The black-haired man persists. “If he bites my dick, can I fuck him?”

The boss laughs. “Sure, fine. I don’t think he’s going to fight back any more. Look at him, he’s so terrified he can barely stand up straight.”

Arin catches a glimpse of Dan’s face and wants to vomit at the sheer terror in his best friend’s eyes. Guilt sits heavy in Arin’s stomach and eats at him like burning acid. He’d failed to protect his wife, to secure his home - he’d failed to save Suzy - and then he’d failed to follow their captors’ orders when he’d had full knowledge of what would happen to Dan if he did. What kind of a man is he? All he’d had to do was suck the boss’s cock….

“Are you watching, Arin?” the black-haired man calls to him. 

Arin doesn’t move.

“I’m not gonna be able to finish if you’re not watching, so if you want this to be over as fast as possible for Dan’s sake, you better keep your eyes on us the whole time.

Arin lifts his head slowly. “Okay.” His voice sounds nothing like his own. He doesn’t want to watch. He would rather be blind in this moment than watch Dan be violated.

“Keep your eyes on them,” the boss orders him. “Remember that you did this. Everything that happens to Dan is your fault.” 

The black-haired man holds up his knife and turns it to make the dingy lights gleam off the blade. Then he presses it against Dan’s cheek.

 _Please, no, not his face,_ Arin tries to shout, but his throat feels like its being gripped by an iron fist.

“Wouldn’t it be a shame to wreck this pretty face?” the black-haired man asks softly, his eyes still on Arin like he’d heard his silent plea. He trails the knife to Dan’s nose. “Sharp enough to shave with, isn’t it? I take good care of my knives. It’s so sharp, you don’t even feel it go in, am I right?” He pauses. “I said, _am I right_?”

Dan is shaking so hard that his teeth are chattering as he tries to speak. “Y-yes…?”

The man touches Dan’s chin with the blade, then drops it to his stomach and says, “You don’t sound sure. Here, I’ll remind you. Arin, watch this.” 

One quick movement of his hand, and suddenly there’s a ruby-red line from Dan’s navel almost to his hip bone. Dan doesn’t react until the blood starts to gush, spilling down to the top of his pubic hair. Then he makes a choked scream and presses his hand against the wound. Blood seeps through his fingers and Arin’s stomach turns over again.

_My fault, all my fault…_

“Okay,” the boss says warningly, “that’s enough. I told you, not that deep. Control yourself. We’re not trying to make him bleed out. Just make him hurt, have some fun.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” The black-haired man is clearly excited at the sight of the blood. He licks his lips and lets his mouth hang open, breathing wetly, a terrible lust shining in his eyes. 

Dan’s face is pale. He looks at his cut stomach in shock, and then at his blood-covered hand.

“Don’t hide it from me, beautiful,” he murmurs, grabbing Dan’s wrist and yanking his hand away from the cut. “God, let me just - ”

He drops to his knees and presses his mouth to Dan’s bleeding stomach. Dan screams shrilly and tries to twist away, but his assailant is too fast; he locks his hands around Dan’s thighs and takes the opportunity to grope Dan’s ass. 

Arin tries to let his eyes unfocus, so he can look without seeing, but it’s hopeless. He sees everything. He sees Dan’s face, twisted with pain; he sees the blood still seeping from his arm; he sees the black-haired man’s tongue wiggling into the knife wound he’d made on Dan’s pale skin.

Everything happens so quickly. The black-haired man fumbles at his pants - then his cock is out, hard and red in his hand - and then he’s rutting against Dan’s stomach, grinding himself against the gash, and Dan screams again. The big man watches with vague amusement, like he’s watching a mildly interesting movie. The boss is watching too, his lip curled in disgust. 

“Holy _shit_ ,” the black-haired man groans. He pulls back - enough for Arin to see his hard cock, covered in Dan’s blood - and then, with a shaking hand, he slips the knife down between Dan’s thighs. He makes a haphazard slash, high up, near the juncture where Dan’s thigh meets his crotch.

Dan opens his mouth and nothing comes out. All the colour fades from his face. The black-haired man drops the knife and grabs Dan by the hips, humping against him, grunting like an animal. It doesn’t take him long to freeze, letting out a drawn-out groan, and Arin can’t see it happening but he knows the man is coming, his cock spurting onto Dan’s skin and into his wounds.

Dan wobbles on his feet, then crumples to the floor. 

The boss curses, rushing over to shove the black-haired man away. “I swear to God, you stupid shit, if you kill him - ”

“He’s fine, Jesus Christ, he fainted again, it’s just a little blood - ”

“I told you to control yourself. You weren’t even looking at what you were doing when you cut him. If you can’t focus, I’m not going to let you play with my toys - ”

“Look, I have a towel, here, it’ll stop bleeding if we just - ”

Arin’s in a strange state of numb panic. He’s frozen in place and his ears are ringing. Everything seems too bright - unreal - like a video game - it can’t be real life. 

Dan is not getting up. Dan is unconscious. Arin can’t see how bad the bleeding is, but he can fucking smell the blood - a pungent, sweet metallic stench. And if he can smell it from here, there’s got to be a lot of it. 

Watching this happen is the worst torture he could have ever imagined. And Arin is helpless to stop it. Completely fucking helpless.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until the big man is right in his face, snapping his fingers next to Arin’s ear.

“Stop fucking blubbering,” he hisses. “You look pathetic. Shut the fuck up and come help us.”

Arin sits up and sways. “Is he…is he going to…”

“He’s not going to die,” the big man says, casually, “but you need to come help us patch him up.”

“Me? I don’t know anything about…”

“You’re not going to do anything. You’re going to help hold him while we clean him up.”

Arin manages to roll to his stomach and push himself up on his knees. He hears the big man laugh at him as he crawls, his knees scraping painfully along the rough bare concrete floor. The boss is kneeling in front of Dan, muttering angrily under his breath as he presses a stained towel against the bloody gashes. 

“Look,” the black-haired man is saying, sounding surly and obnoxious, “none of them are _that_ deep, I told you he’d be fine. You said I could cut him.”

“I said you could slice him a little, just to keep him on his toes. Get that first-aid kit from upstairs.”

“Can I - ”

“Just do what I fucking tell you and stop arguing with me about it!”

The big man shoves Arin to the side and kneels next to the boss. They study Dan‘s wounds, murmuring to each other for a while, until the black-haired man returns with a small hard case. He pops the latch and sets it down, and the boss immediately takes out a roll of gauze.

The big man intervenes. “Boss, you want to rinse the cuts out first. He never cleans that knife, and God knows what he got in that stomach cut when he was sticking his tongue and his dick in there. Arin can help us get him to the shower.”

The black-haired man pipes up. “I can do it, I can carry him - ”

“Arin can do it,” the boss snaps. “Arin, get him up. Follow me.”

Arin fights off the burst of dizziness as he gets hit with another wave of that pungent bloody smell. He gets his feet under him and takes Dan gently by the shoulders, getting him up into a sitting position, his head lolling back onto Arin’s chest. His knees are so fucking weak, he doesn’t know if he can pick Dan up without dropping him. Just when he’s about to ask for help, Dan stirs faintly. Arin can feel the moment when he creeps back into consciousness, his body instantly going tense with fear as he feels Arin pressed so close against his naked body.

“It’s just me,” Arin whispers to him. “It’s just me, Danny, I’m right here.”

“Arin,” Dan manages. “Arin, what’s…”

“Can you stand up if I help you?”

“Where are we going? Arin, what’s happening?”

“We’re going to get you cleaned up, okay?”

“Come on,” the boss snaps. “Get him up.”

Dan cringes at the sound of the man’s voice, and suddenly his body isn’t a total dead weight in Arin’s arms. Between the two of them, they manage to struggle to their feet. Dan turns to press himself against Arin, burying his face in Arin’s shoulder, and Arin’s heart aches for him as he strokes Dan’s dirty tangled hair.

“Can you walk?” Arin asks softly. Dan’s legs are trembling like a baby deer.

“Hurts,” Dan says faintly. “My - on my thigh, there’s…” 

Arin looks down to see the blood on Dan’s legs. “It’s okay,” is all he knows to say. “It’s okay, they said it’s not that deep.”

“Okay,” Dan whispers back, and then they’re moving - slowly, but surely, following their captors to an unknown doorway in the far corner of the basement.

Arin hadn’t realized that the basement was more than just a small room with a mattress. When they pass through the doorway, he sees a seatless metal toilet, and a big stained cream porcelain tub that looked like a relic stolen from a condemned house. There was no faucet, just a short coiled hose and a drain in the floor. 

“Stand in there with him,” the boss orders. Arin obeys numbly, holding Dan from behind. The boss grabs the hose and drops it into the tub, then turns to turn a spigot on the wall. The water gushes out in a freezing torrent, soaking Arin’s feet.

“Hold him,” is all the instruction Arin gets, before the boss picks up the hose with one hand and shoves Dan’s legs apart with the other. 

Dan cries out in pain as the boss blasts the blood and cum off his thigh cut, and Arin holds him more tightly. The water pooling around the drain quickly turns reddish-pink.

“This one’s not that bad,” the boss muses, patting Dan’s leg. “Fucking nasty and full of cum, but it’ll be fine.”

“Just like Arin, when we’re done with him tonight,” the big man jokes, and the boss chuckles appreciatively. He aims the hose at the drain and takes a new cloth offered by the big man, pressing it hard to Dan’s cut.

Arin hears the ugly joke and the threat of what’s to come, but he doesn’t care. What happens to him doesn’t matter. Dan just had to be okay, and then Arin could take anything. Dan is shuddering, his body tight with tension and pain and the shock of the cold water, and when the boss starts to rinse out his awful gaping stomach gash, he starts to cry. Arin holds him tighter, kissing the back of his head and murmuring nonsense words to him. 

By the time they’re done, Dan’s lips are blue from cold and his teeth are chattering. The flow of blood has mostly stopped, except for the big cut on his belly. Arin holds the clean cloth to it firmly as the boss leaves and returns with a big brown bottle.

“Arin, do me a favour,” he says. “Hold him still and put your hand over his mouth.”

“What?”

“Put your hand over his mouth. He’s a screamer and I don’t want to go deaf. Make sure you hold on, we don‘t want him to slip and fall.”

Arin pales as he realizes what’s in the bottle. “Dan, I’m sorry,” he croaks, and then he covers Dan’s mouth, tightens his grip around Dan’s chest, and braces himself.

Dan screams against Arin’s hand and starts to writhe in his grasp as the boss unceremoniously dumps rubbing alcohol onto his wounds. The big man, leaning against the wall, watches with a little pitying smile. Arin turns his face away, unable to watch Dan’s helpless body twitching and jerking in pain. Just behind him is the black-haired man, still surly, but watching the action eagerly with a gleam in his eyes and a bulge in his pants. He’s getting off watching Dan in pain, and it makes Arin sick.

Like a coward, he closes his eyes to it, tries to block out everything and focus on his task. He can’t let Danny fall, he can’t disobey the men and anger them, inducing them to hurt Dan more. He has to be good, he has to play the part they want him to play. Dan is counting on him. 

It doesn’t last long, though it probably feels like a lifetime to Dan. The boss caps the bottle calmly and says to Dan, “Can you walk?”

Arin strokes Dan’s hair as Dan’s teeth click together. Eventually he manages, “Y-yes, I think - ”

“Good, then let’s get you back to the bed.”

“Can I - ” the black-haired man starts eagerly, but the boss cuts him off.

“No, you can’t fuck him, and you’re done playing with him for tonight.”

“That’s not what I - ”

“Shut up,” the boss snaps. “Shut the fuck up, or you’re out of this deal. We don’t need you anyway. You can play with him when you’ve calmed the fuck down.”

Arin catches the black look on his face, but the creep shuts up as commanded.

Dan takes a tentative step, wobbles only a little, then gets himself out of the tub. Arin tries to grab him by the hip to steady him.

“Don’t,” Dan says quietly. “I can do this.”

Arin’s heart thumps. “Let me help you.”

“Don’t touch me,” Dan whispers, and it feels like a knife to Arin’s chest. 

“Danny?” Arin’s voice trembles. “Are you - ”

“Please,” Dan repeats. “Don’t. I don’t want to be touched. It’s not you, I just - I can’t - leave me alone.”

Arin struggles not to cry. Dan sounds so broken. “I’m only trying to help you. Danny, I’d never…”

Dan just shakes his head. His face is blanched with pain and his eyes are oddly blank. “No,” he repeats, robotically. “No more, I…”

The big man takes him by his unhurt wrist and leads him forward, back to the shitty mattress on the floor where Arin had woken up. “Get a blanket,” he tells the black-haired man. 

“Why? You said we shouldn’t - ”

“Just get a fucking blanket and stop flapping your lips at me!”

“Good,” the big man says as Dan awkwardly lays down, hiding his nakedness with his hands. “I’ll bandage him up, and then you and I can have some fun.”

Dan recoils, and the big man laughs at him. “Not with you, sweetheart, don’t worry. We’ll deal with you later. For now, you can just lay back, relax, and watch your friend’s fat ass get plowed into next year.”

The boss laughs as he winds gauze around Dan’s arm. “Aw, now look what you’ve done, you’ve made him cry.”

Arin’s heart thumps again when he sees the tears spilling from Dan’s tightly clenched eyelids. The big man comes over to Arin with a slick grin. Arin makes himself look him in the eye. His face feels hot and his eyes are burning, but he holds the eye contact, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing him cower. He’s not going to let them break him - he’s not going to give them another reason to hurt Dan. 

“Excited for some action?” the big man asks, reaching out and giving Arin’s chest a squeeze. “It’s about time you got your clothes off, huh? They’re all wet from the tub. Come on,” he adds, when Arin doesn’t immediately move, “Show me your tits. Maybe if they’re big enough I’ll fuck them instead of your mouth.”

Arin won’t let this shake him. He’s been called fat before - it means nothing. The big man hates him and is trying to get a rise out of him, that’s all.

“Maybe you’d like that,” the big man muses, placing both of his hands on Arin’s chest and grabbing his pecs so hard that Arin winces. “Maybe, deep down, this is what you’ve always wanted. Maybe you’re more fierce than your whiny little friend there, but now you’re going to be a good little whore for us, yeah? Just lay down and take it like the pathetic waste of a man you are?”

“Sure,” Arin says baldly, sounding a lot more brave than he felt. He’s never had anything bigger than a finger up his ass, and he’s acutely aware that what’s about to happen to him is going to hurt a lot. But there are more important things to worry about. Suzy, somewhere, alone. And what they’re planning to do with her. And what might happen if she fought them or mouthed off to them.

Arin takes off his T-shirt and drops it next to the bed. The cool damp air prickles over his skin and he can feel the eyes on him, crawling over his body in a way that makes him feel shaky and sick. He takes a deep breath and starts to work on unbuttoning his pants. He can do this - he can get them both off so they won’t have to touch Dan or Suzy. Maybe, if he was really good, they would never touch Dan or Suzy…maybe they’d even let them go and just keep Arin, and that wouldn’t be so hard, knowing everyone he loved was safe…

_Right. And maybe if you ask very politely, they won’t rape you at all, and maybe they’ll drive us all home and wish us a pleasant goodnight._

Arin grapples with himself, fighting back the cold understanding in favour of the pleasant fantasy. He couldn’t lose hope. He was still alive, and so was Dan. The boss had stopped the black-haired man from hurting Dan too badly, and taken care to disinfect the wounds - they wanted him alive, and for more than just a few days. 

His pants and underwear hit the floor and Arin steps out of them mechanically. He squares his shoulders and fights the urge to hunch in on himself or cower behind his hands. _You want to look, go ahead and fucking look, you can’t hurt me worse than you already have._

The boss stands up from where he’d been tending to Dan and grins at the sight. “Still trying to act tough, are you, Arin?”

“No,” Arin says, as calmly as he can. His voice sounds and feels rough, like it did when he neared the end of a tour. He looks at Dan, laying limply on the bed, curled up beneath the blanket and breathing shallowly. 

The boss strides over to him in three quick steps and grabs Arin by the chin. They’re nearly the same height, but his eyes make Arin feel small. “That’s good,” he says. “You wouldn’t want to make me angry when I’m about to fuck you. I might decide all you need is a little spit instead of lube.”

Arin’s eyes flicker away and he can’t help but shudder at the threat.

“Should have just used your mouth on me while you had the chance, huh? You were doing so good, too. Almost got me off. Such a shame that you fucked everything up.”

“I’ll take his mouth,” the big man offers. “I think he’ll know better than to bite me this time.”

“You want to spit roast him with me?”

“Like the pig he is,” the big man quips, and then they both start to guffaw. 

The bed creaks as Dan makes a sharp, convulsive movement. Arin sucks in a breath, praying for Dan to stay calm. 

“Getting scared now?” the big man asks, misinterpreting Arin’s short gasp. “Don’t worry, we won’t be too rough. We don’t want to ruin your holes. We want to keep them in good shape for next time.”

“Maybe he didn’t like you calling him a little piggy,” the boss scolds, jokingly. “It’s okay, Arin, I like a nice big ass.” He punctuates his vulgar comment with a firm slap to Arin’s rear. “Look at it jiggle. I love it.”

 _Stay strong,_ Arin tells himself as the two men press in on both sides, the boss behind him and the big man in front. He closes his eyes as their hands start to explore his body. They squeeze and caress him, his stomach, his chest, his ass, everywhere. Their touch is careless, almost clinical, like they’re testing a cut of beef. 

“Let’s get him on the bed,” the boss says, grabbing Arin by the shoulders. “I’ve waited long enough. I’d love to play with him a little more, but _fuck_ , I need to come. Dan, move over.”

“Wait,” the big man interjects, and Dan freezes. “I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

The big man smirks at Arin and pats his cheek. “Just trust me, boss. Dan, move this way - get in the middle of the bed, that’s right, sweetie. Take the blanket off. Don’t be shy, we’ve all seen you naked now.”

Dan does as he’s told, shivering again without the heat of the thin scratchy blanket. 

“You’re still cold? Arin’s gonna warm you up, don’t worry. Come here, Arin. Get on top of him. Straddle him, but stay on your hands and knees. Dan, keep your legs together - like that, good.”

The boss starts to laugh. “Really?”

“Why not? It’ll be funny. Maybe they can share my cum after Arin sucks me off.”

“And if Arin’s mouth isn’t good enough, I’ll pull him back down this way and he can practice on Dan for a while.”

“And if he’s busy doing that, I can just - ” The big man kneels behind Dan’s head and unzips his pants. He reaches in and pulls out his cock with one hand while the other grabs Dan’s chin and tips his head back. “I can probably fit it in from this angle, don’t you think? Dan, stick out your tongue, have a little taste of this.”

Arin’s helpless to do anything but watch. Dan lets out a sob as he obeys. He has to crane his neck to reach with the tip of his pointy tongue. Arin recognizes it as a threat. He knows if he fails again, the man won’t hesitate to make Dan suck his dick instead, right in front of Arin’s face.

“Yeah,” the big man sighs, “this is a pretty good backup. Now _come here_ , Arin, and don’t make me ask you again.”

 _Oh, God._ Arin doesn’t realize how hard he’s shaking until he tries to move and ends up stumbling over his own feet. He doesn’t want Dan to have to be a part of this. Dan’s in pain, and he doesn’t want to be touched, and now Arin has to climb on top of him and essentially pin him down, their naked bodies flush against each other. He’s careful, not wanting to jostle Dan or touch any of his bandaged cuts, but the mattress dips beneath his knees and he ends up brushing against the deep cut on Dan’s stomach. Dan tries to hold in his pained whimper, but Arin hears the muffled little noise and wants to cry.

“I’m sorry,” Arin whispers to Dan, tears blurring his eyes. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts.”

“Oh, that looks nice,” the boss says admiringly. “I bet Arin’s always wanted this. Right, Arin?”

“I think he wants it the other way around,” the big man comments. “He’s always wanted to get fucked. You’ve heard the way he talks.”

“Well, I’m about to make his dreams come true.”

The boss kneels behind Arin, and Arin lurches forward in shock when he feels something hard and blunt press against the top of his cleft. Dan makes another choked noise and Arin freezes in place. 

Oh, God, this is what they wanted - it’s not just humiliation, to make him get fucked over Dan’s body. He has to be still, or he’ll hurt Dan - and both of their captors know it’s more effective than tying him up or threatening to hit him. Arin’s head spins and he has to fight not to faint.

“Here, Arin.” The big man shuffles forward, cock in hand. “Here’s a treat for you, pig. Hurry up and suck it.”

Arin makes himself forget about what’s happening behind him. He shifts his weight forward and opens his mouth wide, and the big man does the rest. With one thrust of his hips, Arin’s mouth is full of dick again, full of that thick musky smell and the mucusy slimy pre-come dripping down the back of his throat. He gags right away, but he doesn’t stop. It’s hard to concentrate on this task when ninety-nine percent of his brain is focused on there being a dick right against his ass, thick and hard and about to go inside him.

“Relax,” the boss tells him with irritation in his voice. “Stop clenching. Do you want me to rip you open?”

 _I’m trying._ Arin can’t speak with his mouth full. He’s never had to think about relaxing that part of his body before. 

Cold wet fingers touch his hole and Arin jerks forward, making himself gag again. Both of the men laugh at him.

“Just getting you nice and wet,” the boss says. “Getting that pretty pink hole all wet and ready for my dick.” His voice has gone low and husky. “Just like a tight little pussy, like you’ve always wanted.”

Beneath him, Dan gives a tiny sob. He’s crying again. Crying for Arin, because he can’t stand to hear Arin being degraded like this.

Arin’s throat tightens and he makes an involuntary noise, muffled by the thick cock in his mouth. The big man exhales loudly and grabs a handful of Arin’s long hair.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, wrenching Arin’s head forward. “You were right, boss. This bitch knows how to suck dick.”

“If only he’d done a better job in the first place,” the boss says from behind Arin as he rubs the pad of his finger over Arin’s slicked hole. “We could have left Dan alone. Mostly, anyway.”

“Those cuts look so nasty, don’t they? At least it taught them both a lesson they won’t forget for a good long time.”

Arin squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed by shame. It was true - it was his fault that Dan had been tortured. And he can’t take it back, not ever. All he can do is keep still, on all fours with his ass held up on display and spread open by the way he has to keep his knees on either side of Dan’s hips. They’re still touching - Arin can’t help it - but he tries his best to minimize contact. If he tries to arch away from the boss playing with his ass, he’ll jostle Dan’s lower body, with the nasty cut on his inner thigh. Arin can tell it’s hurting him worse than the other wounds. Even with the gauze padding, Dan’s holding his leg at an awkward angle, and his face is strained and pale. 

Arin wishes like hell that he could comfort him, protect him from the captors’ hungry gazes and nasty comments. He wishes he could take the pain away from Dan and endure it himself. And he wishes he knew where the black-haired man was, because he doesn’t like that he had suddenly gone so quiet. It’s obvious that being forbidden from ‘playing with’ Dan hadn’t sat well with him.

But all he can do is keep himself still and let the men do as they please with him.

Without warning, the boss stops teasing Arin’s hole and just slides a single finger inside. Arin tries to gasp, chokes on the big man’s cock, and surges into panic as he can’t get his breath back. His body floods with adrenaline and goes tense.

“Fuck,” the boss groans. His finger is so fucking thick, and rough with calluses - Arin can feel the texture against his inner walls. “You feel so fucking good, Arin. I hope you squeeze around my dick like this too.”

“He’d feel even tighter if you don’t stretch him out like that before you fuck him,” the big man suggests. 

“But he’s being so good for us,” the boss answers with mock reproach. “So is Dan, lying there all pretty with his mouth shut. Good boys get rewarded. If they keep being such good little dolls, maybe we’ll feed them tomorrow. Maybe they can even come upstairs to take a real shower.”

 _Upstairs_. Arin ignores the demeaning comments and perks up at that word. Suzy was somewhere upstairs. Maybe he could see her, even just a glimpse…maybe he could hear her voice…maybe he could even tell her how much he loves her, just one more time…

A shocking surge of sensation crackles through Arin’s body and he nearly forgets not to bite down on the big man’s cock. The boss had crooked his finger and was prodding at Arin’s prostate, too rough to feel good but too intense for Arin to ignore. 

“Yeah, you like that, slut?”

And, to Arin’s horror, his body responds and his cock gives a weak twitch. _No, no, please don’t, please don’t let me get hard from this._

The boss smacks Arin’s ass without warning. “I _said_ , do you like that? You like it in the ass?”

“Mmmh,” is all Arin can do, but the moan makes both men laugh heartily. A second finger works its way in alongside the first. The stretch and burn is more intense, closer to unbearable now, but the pain is still vastly overshadowed by the feelings of humiliation and self-hatred.

The boss begins to rock his hand back and forth, his fingers pumping in and out of Arin’s tight ass. The big man buries his other hand in Arin’s hair, gathering it into two bunches, and uses them as leverage as he starts to thrust his hips to mirror the boss’s pace.

“Shit, he’s just _taking_ it. Look at this stupid slut. I really think he likes it.”

Nothing in his life or his most horrifying nightmares had ever been as bad as this. Arin’s lips are numb from the friction of the cock sliding in and out of his mouth, and he can’t stop himself from drooling the excess saliva down onto the mattress and into Dan’s hair. Arin groans again, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as the full reality of what’s about to happen truly sinks in. 

“I can’t wait anymore,” the boss declares, and then he yanks his fingers out of Arin’s body with a slick wet pop. “I have to fuck him. Where‘d that lube go?”

“Do it without,” the big man suggests. “You got plenty in there just from fingering him.”

“I like it wet. Like a good pussy.” 

There’s a wet squelching noise, and then a big blunt pressure on Arin’s hole. 

Arin’s muscles tremble as he waits for it, this irrevocable act of torture. Every fiber of his being is screaming to get up and run.

And then Dan shifts beneath him, and then his trembling, cold hand lifts up to touch Arin’s side. Arin focuses on it - that tiny reassuring touch that reminds him of what truly matters. Dan’s here with him, Dan loves him and trusts him, and Arin will do this for him.

With a push of his hips, the boss breaches Arin’s hole, opening him up wider than Arin had ever thought possible.

“Oh, my God, that’s good,” the boss moans. “Oh fuck this is - fuck, it’s so tight and hot, so fucking perfect - ”

“Keep sucking, baby, don’t stop, the better you are the faster I’ll finish.”

Arin’s mind is whirling. It hurts so fucking much, and it just keeps _going_ , sliding further and further into his body with ease. He struggles to stay upright, to keep taking it, even as the big man’s thrusts get rougher. His mouth is starting to hurt - his lips and throat feel so raw - but the big man is right - it’ll be over fast if he makes it good. 

“I think he likes your dick, boss. He’s sucking even harder, such a fuckin’ pro. I’m getting close.”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah. Come on, Arin, show me what that mouth can do.”

Arin tries. It drags on and on, never getting easier. The boss twists his hips, grunting like an animal as he fucks Arin’s ass deep and hard, sending jolts of pain through Arin’s body with every thrust. The big man holds his hair and fucks into his mouth. And Arin just takes it, giving these men their sick pleasure.

Finally, the big man falters. His voice is strained and tight. “Shit, fuck. Arin, listen to me - you’re not gonna spit it out and you’re not gonna swallow it - you understand me? Fuckin’, just hold it in your mouth - do it or I’ll make you regret it. Don’t spill any. Gonna - here it comes - ”

The cock in his mouth swells further, and Arin thinks, _Yes, fuck, let it be over already, please_ \- and then suddenly his mouth is being filled with warm, musky fluid, salty and bitter on his tongue. And there’s so _much_ of it, a big fucking mouthful. Arin’s body is still being pushed forward relentlessly with the power of the boss’s deep thrusts, and it’s so fucking hard to keep the mouthful of liquid even as the big man pulls out with a sigh. Arin has to press his lips together as hard as he can - he can’t feel them, and he can’t tell if he’s going to just dribble the man’s disgusting cum down his chin.

“You like that taste, Arin?”

Arin’s face can’t emote. He stares blankly, his tongue recoiling at the flavour.

“Maybe Dan would like a taste, too?”

The boss laughs and slows his thrusts. “I think he would. Kiss him, Arin.”

_No, fuck, don’t make me do this._

“Arin, he’s waiting for you.”

Arin slowly opens his eyes and looks down at Dan’s face. 

Their eyes lock. Dan looks absolutely petrified. Arin can feel the little puffs of his breath on his face.

“Do it,” the boss snaps. “Kiss him now, and feed him that cum, or I’ll take my dick out and stick it in Dan instead.”

Arin bends forward and presses his mouth to Dan’s for the second time that night. 

He can feel Dan’s body struggle to keep still as the taste hits him. Arin tries to hold as much back as he can, but it’s no use. Some of the excess spills out from the corner of his mouth and trickles down Dan’s cheek. Dan gags against Arin’s mouth, his naked body bucking up against Arin’s as he struggles with the task of keeping his head still. And the men are fucking _laughing_.

The boss bends forward suddenly, pinning Arin against Dan. Dan cries out and breaks the kiss as he’s crushed against the mattress. More cum spills down his chin.

“Swallow it,” the big man snaps. “Both of you, swallow it.”

Arin does, gasping, and watches Dan’s eyes squint shut as he follows suit.

They don’t get a break at all. The boss grabs Arin by the hips and starts to pound into him again, harder than before. His rhythm is messy and disjointed. Dan screams in pain as his body moves with the force, but Arin can’t help it, can’t move, can’t do anything, but it’s almost over - God, let it be over - _please_ -

Behind him, the boss’s grunts turn to one long, quavering groan. His hips snap forward, burying himself to the hilt. Arin can feel his cock throbbing in him as it lets go, filling Arin with his seed. Arin can feel the warmth and slickness in him and wants to throw up.

Thankfully, it’s over quickly from there.

The boss pulls out of Arin’s ass with a disgusting squelch, and Arin feels the horrible sensation of a gush of wetness following him. It feels like his insides have all gone soft, like his ass has been irreparably stretched and ruined.

Arin has the presence of mind not to collapse on top of Dan’s body. He rolls himself to the side awkwardly and then folds, all his strength gone. He presses his face into the stinking, filthy mattress and just lies there, trembling, his ass wet with lube and cum and his numb mouth crusty with his own saliva.

“Well, this was nice,” the boss says pleasantly, tugging on his pants. “I haven’t had a fuck that good in a long time.”

“I did,” the big man laughs, though Arin doesn’t get the joke, “but this was definitely fun too. I’m getting my money’s worth for sure.”

The black-haired man stirs from the corner of the room. Arin had almost forgotten about him.

“Don’t you sulk,” the boss says to him. “You still got to have fun.”

“I wanted to have Dan,” the black-haired man mutters. “You should have let me at least try his mouth.”

“They’re not going anywhere. You’ll get your turn. Be patient.”

Arin glances over and sees the black-haired man staring back at him with a cold look that sends shivers down his spine. Dan turns his head and sees him, too. Arin can feel him cringe. 

“I’m hungry,” the big man says. “Let’s leave them be for now and go order some food. Do you think they need to be tied up?”

“What are they gonna do? I’d be surprised if Arin can even walk after that deep fucking, and Dan’s no threat.”

The big man laughs. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not like they can go anywhere, anyway. I’d rather not have to deal with the mess if we don’t let them at least limp to the toilet.”

“Goodnight, boys. I suggest you get some sleep. We’ll be back for you tomorrow.”

Arin hears the sound of footsteps retreating, and the boom of a door closing. A clicking noise as it locks. And then the room plunges into darkness.

Panic rises fast in Arin’s chest and clamps down on it fast before it can get away from him. It’s already hard to breathe. Arin feels like he’s being smothered, held down, and it’s triggering all of his most base instincts. The damp concrete walls seem to absorb light and sound, making the huge space seem smaller and more confining than it really is. He’s thankful that the men hadn’t tied him up again - that would be maddening, in this awful darkness. He hurts all over - he’s sore and weak and thirsty, and his ass is throbbing. His bottom lip is stinging like some of the skin had chapped off.

“Arin?” Dan asks from the darkness, so quietly that Arin almost doesn’t hear him. “Arin, where - ”

“Right here,” Arin answers softly, shifting his body so Dan can sense where he is. He wants to reach out and pat around, find Dan’s body and snuggle up to its warmth - but he won’t violate Dan’s boundaries, not without permission. He can hear Dan’s quick, shallow breathing. “Are you okay?”

That was a dumb question. Dan had been kidnapped, groped, abused, and humiliated - of course he wasn’t okay. 

Dan’s voice is a little frantic. “Arin, can I…can you please just…can you hold me? I’m sorry, it’s stupid to be scared of the dark, but - ”

“I’m scared too,” Arin whispers back. “How should I - ”

Dan’s hand, wandering in the dark, finds Arin’s forearm and clutches it tightly. Arin carefully reaches out for where he thinks Dan’s shoulders are. He doesn’t want to touch any of his cuts or even jostle the bandages for fear of starting the bleeding again.

“Arin,” Dan sobs, immediately pushing himself against Arin’s body. “Oh, Arin, what are we going to do?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Arin lies, even as he wants to scream at the feeling of cum trickling out of his ass. “We’re gonna be okay, Danny. They like us, and as long as we’re good…”

“The one who…the one who likes me, he’s…he scares me so fucking much, Arin. All the way here and upstairs where they tied me up, he was…touching me, telling me that he’s going to fuck me, saying things about how much he liked my body…and then he got on top of me and was trying to - to get me to use my mouth on him. I bit him….and then he hurt me so fucking bad and I thought I was going to die…I thought he was going to beat me to death. He lost control.”

Arin feels sick to his stomach. “The boss guy won’t let him. He won’t let him touch you like that again.”

“They hurt you so bad,” Dan whispers. “They…th-they raped you and I did nothing but lay there…”

“They would have made it worse for both of us if you struggled or did anything. You know that. Dan, it’s okay. _I’m_ okay. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

Dan shivers and clings to Arin as tightly as he can. Arin can feel the way he has to keep his waist angled away, making sure not to move the awful gash on his tiny flat stomach. Arin feels another wave of nausea, remembering the way the black-haired man had rutted against the wound, the blood smearing over his dick, the crazed look of lust and hate in his eyes…

He has to put on a brave front for Dan, but Arin doesn’t think the black-haired man is going to sit idly by and accept the instruction not to hurt Dan without the boss’s permission.

Arin strokes Dan’s frizzy hair away from his face. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs. “We’re going to get out of here. They’ll let us go. They don’t want to kill us.”

In the room soaked in blood and tears, on a mattress that smells like sex and filth, Dan turns his head and kisses Arin on the mouth, willingly this time. 

It was nothing like the cold empty kisses their captors had wanted to see. Arin can feel the warmth behind it - all the trust and love of their years of friendship. Despite what they had made Arin do to him, Dan still loves him.

They’d never kissed before. 

Maybe they never would again. 

Maybe this was the last time he’d ever get to see Dan, to hold him in his arms like this, this beautiful and compassionate man who meant so much to Arin, had brightened his life for so many years…

“I didn’t mean to push you away, earlier,” Dan breathes when they break apart. “I never…it wasn’t you, it wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I was just overwhelmed. I know it hurt you when I said not to touch me and I’m sorry.”

“You had every reason to not want to be touched.” Arin’s heart aches. It was just like Dan to think about hurting Arin’s feelings, even after almost being raped. “Dan, you don’t have to apologize.”

“I wanted to do it now,” Dan’s voice tightens. “I wanted to do it in case we…in case I never get to…”

“Don’t,” Arin inhales sharply. “Don’t say that - don’t think that. Fuck, Dan.”

“Arin,“ Dan asks, going tense. “Are you…are you crying?”

“No,” Arin lies, and he’s got such good control over his voice that it comes out sounding strong. Dan needs him to be strong, and if Arin can’t do that, then he has to fake it. “I’m fine, Danny. You should probably try to get some sleep.”

“Sleep,” Dan repeats, doubtfully. “I don’t know if I can sleep. I’m so cold…”

“Try,” Arin says firmly. “Come closer, if you’re cold.”

Dan doesn’t need to be told twice. He lays his head on Arin’s shoulder and turns to kiss him there. “Love you, Ar’. No matter what happens.”

 _I forgive you_ , is what he means, and Arin knows it. “I love you too,” he says.

Dan falls asleep fairly quickly, but Arin lays awake for a long time. Time moves in a jerky, crazy way. Arin can’t tell if only minutes are passing, or hours. Without Dan’s company, the guilt creeps back in, crawling down his throat and choking him. If he survives this, he knows he’ll never forget the feeling of Dan struggling beneath him, crying in pain. 

The feeling of holding Dan still as their captors poured alcohol in his knife wounds. His hand on Dan’s face, over his mouth, muffling his best friend’s screams of agony.

The moment when he’d heard his own window shatter - when Arin had frozen in shock and missed any possible chance of running, of getting Suzy into the lockable bedroom, where they could call 911. 

The noise of the man’s hand connecting with Suzy’s face when she tried to fight for him…

He’d failed the two people he loved most. That knowledge is a pain that eclipses anything the men had done to him, or could do to him. 

Sleep comes for him only once Arin cries himself into a pounding headache, but his dreams are anything but an escape.


	4. 4

Dan wakes to the suffocating blackness, alone.

The pain of his injuries hits him a second after consciousness comes and it takes his breath away, rendering him unable to think or move. For a short while Dan forgets where he is and what happened to him - but that blissful ignorance doesn’t last long.

Dan’s heart shoots into his throat as he remembers where he is and why he hurts so bad. The weight of the darkness crushes him, holds him down as he tries to move. His relief when he thrusts out an arm and connects with Arin’s soft, warm body - still beside him, still there - is so great that he feels like he could cry with relief. 

Arin, still mostly asleep, grunts as Dan grabs onto his arm. Dan knows his grip is too hard but he can’t help it. And he knows Arin needs his rest after what he’d been through, but right now Dan needs Arin’s comfort. The details of Dan’s horrible dreams are already slipping away, but they leave behind a lingering dread and horrible residual images of Arin and Suzy lying on the ground with cold dead eyes, staring up at him accusingly, because it was his fault, all his fault…he’d fucked up and their captors had killed them, and he’d be next…

Arin responds by rolling to his side and taking Dan in his arms, gently. He stinks of sweat but Dan doesn’t care. It’s a familiar smell - and better than the mildewy dampness of this basement. Dan presses his face into Arin’s chest and soothes himself with pleasant memories of home. 

But just as he begins to fall back asleep, a door bangs shut.

The noise echoes through the bare room. Dan jumps and Arin’s arms tighten around him. 

“It’s okay,” Arin whispers to him after five tense seconds of silence. “Maybe someone just - hit the door from outside, or something.”

Dan’s chest is so tight he can barely breathe, let alone talk. Being helpless and grappling with the primal fear of the dark, of the unknown, is absolute torture. A small whimper escapes him and he starts to shake.

Arin strokes his hair and kisses his forehead. “I’m right here, Dan. Right here. It’s okay. I’ll protect you. We have each other, no matter what.” 

But Dan can hear the way Arin’s voice quavers. He’s afraid, too.

Rustling in the darkness, slithering. Dan’s so scared that he freezes and can’t move. He pushes his face harder into Arin’s chest as if he can hide. Through his tightly-shut eyelids Dan can tell when a light turns on. Arin’s heart starts to beat double-time and a low noise of horror rises deep in his throat. Dan whimpers again. 

“No,” Arin says raggedly. “Not you…”

“Look at you two, all cuddled up together. How sweet.”

Dan recognizes the voice right away and he goes cold all over.

The black-haired man laughs. Dan hears his footsteps grow closer. Arin clutches Dan more tightly.

“Roll over, Danny. Let me see that pretty face.”

“Don’t hurt him,” Arin whispers. “You’ve done enough.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Arin. Dan, I’m disappointed. Where’s that little firecracker that turned me on so much upstairs, sassing me back and trying to kick me? You look pathetic.”

Dan sets his jaw and pulls away from Arin’s warmth. Slowly, painfully, he rolls onto his back, in the middle of the bed, and faces the cold bright glare of the light to see the familiar slick grinning face and icy eyes.

“There we go. Good morning, sweetheart. There’s my pretty little slave. I’ve missed you so much, you gorgeous thing.” He drops to his knees on the mattress beside Dan.

Dan flinches, but stays still, allowing the man to run a hand through his hair, almost lovingly. The hand slides under Dan’s chin, lifting his face up as the man leans in and presses a kiss to his mouth. His tongue shoves its way into Dan’s mouth, tasting like beer and smoke. 

The man pulls away. “Kiss me back,” he croons. “Show me how much you missed me.”

He leans in for another kiss, rough and smothering. Dan tentatively meets his tongue with his own, trying to keep him in a good mood, but he can’t help himself from crying. His hitching little sobs and the tears on his cheeks don’t seem to bother the black-haired man at all. He moans into Dan’s mouth and sucks on his tongue while his hand rubs at Dan’s chest, playing with one of his nipples.

Finally, after what seems like forever, he pulls away and stares down at Dan’s face. Dan stares back blankly at those disturbing pale eyes, shivering at the coldness he sees there. The black-haired man smiles and licks a tear from Dan’s cheek.

“Come on, now, honey. You look pretty when you cry, but those ugly sniffing noises get on my nerves. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you again if you keep being a good boy. You don‘t want to be punished again, do you?”

Beside him, Arin makes a sharp, convulsive movement.

“I don’t think so, Arin,” the black-haired man says warningly. “I’m only going to warn you once, okay? This has nothing to do with you and I don’t want you getting involved. I’m here for Dan, and I’m going to have him, and if you do anything but lay there and watch with your mouth shut, Dan will suffer worse than he already has.”

Dan feels dizzy. He knows what the man means to do to him. “But…they said…the boss said that…”

“The boss isn’t here, is he, honey? I don’t care what he said. He promised me I could fuck you, and then he went back on his word. I don’t like being lied to.”

Dan swallows. “If he found out…”

“Are you gonna snitch on me, honey?” The black-haired man grins as if finding this all amusing. “The only thing I hate worse than a liar is a snitch. If you run your mouths to the boss, I promise that both of you will suffer. If you think a few little punches and some superficial cuts were bad, then you don’t know what we’re capable of.”

Dan stays silent this time. He feels Arin’s hand grope for his own. Dan grabs onto it and squeezes.

“That’s cute,” their captor says, “but Arin, I’m going to need you to put your hands up over your head. I don’t trust you and I don’t need you getting in my way.” 

Arin’s jaw tenses and his eyes flash at the sight of the handcuffs. “No.”

“Do it,” the man says softly, “or Suzy doesn’t get to eat for a week.”

All the fight goes out of Arin. His mouth presses into a thin line. Dan can sense a quiet rage deep within him, an anger so cold and strong that it almost frightens him. 

“You’re sick,” Arin mutters. “You’re all fucking sick.”

The black-haired man fastens the cuffs around Arin’s wrists, looping the chain through one of the slats in the headboard haphazardly. “I don’t know you two see in each other, anyway. She’s a handful. Doesn’t listen or obey at all.”

“She’s my _wife_ , she’s a person, she’s not a fucking dog,” Arin snarls, his face reddening. His hands curl into fists, helpless in their bonds.

“Well, she better smarten up. She’s lucky my friend likes her and won’t let the boss and me give her a good fuckin’ lesson.”

Dan, seeing the look on Arin’s face, speaks up faintly. “Arin, he’s trying to get a reaction out of you. Don’t give it to him. Please don’t make him hurt you. I - I can’t stand it anymore, watching them hurt you. Please.”

Arin glances at him and softens. He visibly swallows back whatever was going to come out of his mouth next.

The captor only laughs and pets Dan’s tangled hair. He combs through it with rough fingers, tugging at knots and making Dan wince. “Thank you for getting him to shut the fuck up. He’s actually not that ugly with his mouth shut, don’t you think, Dan? Or do you just want him so bad that you don’t care?”

Dan lets himself be pet, not answering until the man grabs his cheek and pinches hard enough to hurt. 

“You will answer me when I ask you a question, is that clear?”

“Yes,” Dan’s voice cracks. He’s terrified at the coldness in the man’s eyes, the way he smirks at their suffering and can suggest the worst punishment so casually and without any remorse. “I’m - I’m sorry.”

“You want Arin to fuck you, right?”

Dan bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head quickly. “N-no.”

“That’s too bad. What a show that would be for us, huh? Us making you sit on Arin’s dick and ride it until your knees give out. I know the boss would love a video of that.”

 _Don’t react,_ Dan tells himself, forcing a vacant and obedient expression on his face. _Don’t react, it’s what he wants._

“You’d be so pretty, with that hair bouncing and your gorgeous legs shaking with the strain…fuck, Danny, I’m hard again just thinking about the face you’ll make when you get fucked. It‘s too bad we have to be quiet tonight. I bet you scream real good when you‘re getting it deep and hard.

“Now,” the black-haired man goes on, “I’m going to take what was promised to me. How much it hurts depends entirely on you. If you’re a good boy, I’ll be gentle with you. It might hurt a little at first, but if you stay calm, it won’t be so bad. You might even enjoy it. But if you struggle…which I know you will, because you’re a stupid slut…I’ll teach you a lesson you won‘t forget.”

“The boss will still find out, you know.” Arin’s voice is quiet but rough. “You’ll leave marks if you hurt him. He bruises easy.”

“Oh, will I?” The black-haired man holds something up for them to see. “I don’t think so.”

Dan doesn’t recognize it at first but he feels a coldness in his stomach all the same. Some sort of device he’s seen before and can’t place. He squints at it, curious and fearful. It’s small, black and rectangular, with a blue logo and two metal points on the top. 

The black-haired man sees his confusion and his grin grows wider. “Ever seen one of these used?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He presses a button on one side and a glowing red light appears; then moves his thumb to the other side where there’s a big red spring-loaded switch. The black haired man holds it close to Dan’s face and says, “Don’t move.”

A blue light flares, accompanied by a horrifying crackling burst of sound. Lightning sizzles between the metal points, blue and deadly, too bright to look at directly. Dan almost chokes on his tongue. It’s a fucking stun gun. A Taser.

“It won’t leave much of a mark,” the black-haired man says, with soft satisfaction. A lingering ozone smell hangs in the air “It’ll make you want to die…but it won’t kill you. A direct contact shot doesn’t fuck you up quite as much as those barb shooting guns the cops use. I could torture you until you forget your own fucking name. And you won’t have any proof if you decide to be a little snitch and tell anyone I was here.”

He comes closer, arm outstretched, and gently touches Dan’s cheek with the metal prongs. “But I don’t think you’ll be stupid enough to fight me, will you? You’re gonna be my perfect little doll, quiet and obedient. At least, for tonight, when we have to be quiet. Next time, you can squirm and struggle and scream all you want.” 

Dan hates himself for crying, but he can’t help it. He’s never been this fucking scared before. Somehow it’s worse with Arin right beside him, watching him fall apart like this. Arin had stayed so calm and strong, even after they’d raped him. Arin had been brave enough to fight them in the beginning, too. Dan had been the stupid little sheep, following the men placidly into their van, sealing his doom. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Arin pleads again, his voice forcibly calm and even, like he’s talking to a rabid dog. “You can have me - you can do whatever you want with me. I’ll do anything you want me to do.”

“Sloppy seconds,” the black-haired man says disdainfully. “Besides, I told you - I don’t want _you_. I’ll fuck you if there’s no better place to stick it in, but as long as I have Dan here, I think I’ll have him instead. Now, Danny, turn over. I want you on your stomach with your knees bent, so your ass is up.”

Dan doesn’t move. He’s not protesting the instruction - he just can’t seem to make his body obey. He feels like he’s spinning in circles, growing dizzy and faint. The lights are too bright and his pain is too great. He hasn’t eaten in far too long, and they haven’t been given any water.

“I don’t have any fucking time to waste, honey. On your stomach, ass up, _now_ , or you’re gonna find out what a stun gun feels like.”

“Please,” Dan gasps faintly, “please, don’t, I’m trying…” With an enormous effort, he manages to sit up. But then, as he tries to maneuver onto his front, the dizziness grows worse and he reels. Everything goes a little grey around the edges.

“Don’t pass out again,” the black-haired man warns, sounding annoyed. “Fuck, how many times can one man faint? You better stay awake. I’ll take you unconscious, but it won’t be half as fun, and I won‘t be very happy with you when you wake up.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan chokes, “I’m sorry, please, I’m really trying.” 

“Maybe if you gave him some fucking food, he wouldn’t be so weak,” Arin speaks up, his voice shaking with rage. “Jesus fucking Christ, can’t you see he can barely sit up straight?”

There’s no warning, nothing. The man turns, lightning quick, Taser in hand. Dan hears the horrible sizzling crackle again, and then suddenly Arin screams. 

The black-haired man is quick to cover his mouth. Arin keeps screaming into it. His eyes bulge as they stare up at the man desperately. It only lasts a second, but Arin is left limp and twitching, his eyes horribly wide with too much white showing.

“That didn’t feel too good, did it?” laughs the black haired man. “Want another one, you mouthy little shit?”

“Arin,” Dan sobs out. “No, please no…”

“Did I ask _you _, Dan?” The black-haired man takes his hand away and lets Arin gasp for air. “You watch your tone with me, Arin. Watch your fucking attitude.” He turns to Dan and purses his lips. “Maybe he’s right, though. Maybe you do need something to eat.” He smirks and pats his crotch. “You can start with this.”__

__Dan’s eyes widen, and the black-haired man chuckles. “It was a joke. I already told you, I want your tight little ass, not your mouth. I remember how tight you felt when I touched you back there earlier…fuck, baby, I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t believe nobody’s ever popped that cherry. Have you ever put anything in there, just to explore?”_ _

__Dan shakes his head._ _

__“Not even a finger?”_ _

__Dan bites his lip. He has to fight to keep his head clear. He doesn‘t want to give Arin a reason to stand up for him again. “No. Never.”_ _

__“Shit, this will be more fun than I thought. Now turn over like I told you and let me see that sweet hole. You can keep looking at Arin if it makes you feel better.”_ _

__It doesn’t make him feel better. Arin’s eyes are awful to look at. There’s still lingering pain written all over his creased brow. Dan gets on all fours, slowly, teetering as his bony limbs sink into the mattress. His trembling makes the headboard rattle against the wall._ _

__“Down,” the man says as if instructing a dog. Dan starts to lower himself onto his stomach, and the man slaps him on the ass. “Face down, you brainless slut. Keep your ass up like I told you. Fuck, yes, there you go. See, it’s not so hard.”_ _

__The man’s hands caress his bare ass, cupping and squeezing it, spreading it open until Dan feels a shock of cool air on his hole, a part of him so private that nobody else has ever touched it. He squeezes his eyes shut and reminds himself that it could be worse - Arin had already gone through this while being made to pleasure the big man with his mouth - Dan could do this, to save himself and Arin from torture. He could do this. He _had_ to. The consequences were unthinkable._ _

__“Good boy,” the man praises. Dan feels something cool and slick drip down the cleft of his ass, and then the man’s rough fingers start to massage it in around his hole. “I’ll get you good and wet, stretch you open with my fingers so your little virgin ass can take my dick, how’s that sound?”_ _

__Dan doesn’t know how to answer. He’s fighting with all his strength just to keep still and not pull away from the violating touch._ _

__“Oh, you don’t like that idea?” The man shuffles up close to Dan, and suddenly there’s something big and hot and hard nestling between his cheeks. “So you want me just to fuck you like this? Are you that eager?_ _

__“No!” Dan shouts, tightening up and leaning forward, away from the man’s cock. “Please, no!”_ _

__“Then say it, sweetheart. Tell me you want my fingers in you. Beg me for it. Or I’ll just shove my dick in here and now.”_ _

__Dan sucks in a breath and lets it out in a sob. “Please,” he manages, “I want you to - to finger me.”_ _

__“That’s better.” The man plants one hand on Dan’s cheek and spreads him again. His finger - still wet with lube - strokes over his hole just once, and then it’s sliding inside._ _

__Dan’s eyes widen but he manages not to cry out. It feels awful - slippery and violating and a little painful already. He can’t imagine how much it’s going to hurt when the man actually fucks him. He sobs again and buries his face in the stained sheets._ _

__“Shh, baby, it’s okay. Take deep breaths. See, it’s not so bad.”_ _

__The finger slides deeper, and the burning stretch intensifies. Dan can feel the man’s callouses against his inner walls, catching on his sensitive skin. His body wants to tighten up and resist, but he knows that will just make it worse. He stays as still as he can, even when the man starts to pump his finger in and out._ _

__“Feels good, doesn’t it, Danny? Look at you, taking it so well. You’re doing better than Arin, and we both know he’s taken it up the ass before he ever got here.”_ _

__A second finger probes at his hole. This time Dan yelps and receives a hard slap on the ass._ _

__“Stay quiet or I’ll shock you. How do you think this would feel, right here?”_ _

__The stun gun presses against Dan’s balls from behind. Dan wants to throw up. Mutely, he looks at Arin, as if Arin can somehow stop this from happening. Arin turns his face away from Dan’s eyes like he’s ashamed to look at him like this, and it feels like being punched in the gut._ _

__“I’m sorry,” Dan says meekly, quietly. “Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry for being loud.”_ _

__“There’s my good boy.” The second finger pushes in all the way alongside the first. Dan feels stuffed to the brim. It doesn’t feel like he’s being opened up or made ready for the man’s cock. It just feels like torture._ _

__The man twists his hand, wiggling his fingers, and Dan almost bites his tongue._ _

__“Stay still,” the man says. “I’m trying to make this good for you. I’m trying to find your G-spot…just wait, you’ll love this.”_ _

__Dan’s never touched his prostate and has no idea what it feels like, but he doubts anything could make this better - let alone that he’s going to love anything about this. But he keeps staying still, keeps being good -_ _

__“Oh!” Dan gasps as a burst of sensation explodes inside him. It’s a hot, prickly feeling, deep in his pelvis, and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. His whole body jerks forward and he squeezes around the man’s fingers involuntarily._ _

__The black-haired man laughs. “Fuck yeah, that felt real nice, didn’t it? Can’t wait to slam my cock into that spot, make you squeeze that tight ass around my big dick.”_ _

__The tips of his fingers pat at the little bundle of nerves, sending more waves of that indescribable electric feeling through Dan’s body. Dan shudders and bites the pillow, breathing deep through his nose to contain the uncontrollable sensations. It doesn’t exactly feel like pleasure, but it’s not unpleasant, either. It’s just embarrassing, the way he’s reacting like a slut, moving and wriggling, little muffled noises falling from his mouth. He doesn’t want Arin to hear this. He doesn’t want Arin to see this. He doesn’t want Arin to be disgusted by him…_ _

__The black-haired man strokes Dan’s back, almost tender. “Doesn’t hurt anymore, does it?”_ _

__“N-no,” Dan whispers, truthfully._ _

__“You like it?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Liar.” A hand slips between his legs and grabs his dick. Dan gasps again, suddenly realizing that he’s half-hard._ _

__“Oh,” the man says. “Oh, what is this? This is too good. I knew you’d be a perfect fuck toy after all. You’re getting hard for me. You do like this, you nasty little lying slut.”_ _

__Dan’s face burns, but he can’t say shit. The man is right. It’s disgusting that he’s letting his body betray him. How can he be feeling pleasure? Arin certainly hadn’t._ _

__The black-haired man starts to jerk Dan’s cock roughly. “I’ll make you a deal, princess. If you cum from me fucking your ass, I’ll go upstairs and bring you down all the food you could eat. Maybe you can even come upstairs and spent the night on a real bed. Would you like that? Maybe you can say hi to Suzy.”_ _

__Dan glances at Arin and sees a spasm of pain on his face._ _

__“I said, would you like that, Danny?”_ _

__“Yes?”_ _

__“Are you asking me, or telling me?” The Taser presses into the base of Dan’s spine._ _

__“ _Yes_ , I’d like it, please don’t shock me - ”_ _

__“Good boy. Calm down, it’s okay. You’re doing so much better this time.”_ _

__The black-haired man twists his hand a few more times and then pulls his fingers out of Dan’s ass carefully. Dan grimaces. The pressure is gone, but his hole feels soft and open and wet - _used_ and filthy. He wants nothing more than to cover himself and hide. His eyes burn with tears and a lump forms in his throat when it sinks in that there is no escape - he’s going to be raped, not just by this man but probably all three of them - and probably more than once._ _

__But the man doesn’t even give him a chance to relax. The blunt head of his cock presses against Dan’s stretched hole without warning._ _

__“Fuck yeah,” he grunts. “Fuck yeah, gonna give it to you so hard.” He rubs the head back and forth across Dan’s hole. Dan waits on tenterhooks, sweating, shaking…the lights are too bright again, and he’s getting dizzy…_ _

__“Breathe, Dan,” Arin says quietly. “Just keep breathing. Think about something else. It’ll be over soon. I’m sorry I can’t stop him. I’m sorry…”_ _

__Dan swallows and tries to breathe in deep - but then his captor thrusts forward and begins to open him up. All of the air gets sucked right out of Dan’s lungs as his mouth opens in a choked-off silent scream. It’s so much more than two fingers - it’s more than he thought - it feels like he’s being split open. The burning pain just keeps fucking going, deeper and deeper, and Dan didn’t know anything could be in him this far, feeling like it was going to bulge out through his stomach. He makes a tiny, quavering moan._ _

__“Ohhh,” the man breathes, grabbing Dan’s hips. “Oh, fuck, Dan. You were worth the wait. This is - this is all I ever wanted. You’re so tight, so hot…”_ _

__Dan squirms, his body pulling away from the intrusion instinctively. The man easily holds him back, his hands splayed on Dan’s tiny hips._ _

__“It’ll get better, baby, just hold still,” the man soothes. “Enjoying the show, Arin? No? Are you mad that it isn’t you popping his cherry?”_ _

__Arin doesn’t answer, except to draw in a sharp breath. The chain of the handcuffs makes a short loud noise as he pulls at them._ _

__“I think he’s jealous,” the black-haired man says to Dan, thumbs stroking Dan’s skin. “I bet all the guys at your office have thought about doing this. Ripping your pants down and just bending you over a fuckin’ table, givin’ it to you hard, making you scream.”_ _

__He grunts and rocks his hips, fucking Dan’s ass. Dan grabs onto the sheets and just tries to hold on, to bear through it._ _

__It hurts - God, does it hurt - and it only feels worse when the man starts trying to angle himself up to hit that sensitive place again. It still sends a shockwave through him, but it‘s the kind of over stimulated feeling of having his cock touched after coming - a kind of sensation that‘s not pain but feels almost like it. He’s lost his half-erection and there are tears streaming down his cheeks, but he makes a little groan every time the man pushes in, and it almost sounds like he’s receiving pleasure from this. The black-haired man certainly thinks so, as he continues to praise Dan for being a good whore._ _

__“Fuck yeah,” the man growls, speeding up. “Fuck - fuckin’ take it, good slut, take my dick. You love it, don’t you? My pretty slave, all mine…gonna cum in your tight ass, baby…”_ _

__And then, through the pain and humiliation, Dan hears something. There’s a familiar noise from above - just like the sound that had preceded the man’s arrival._ _

__Footsteps._ _

__The black-haired man freezes, still halfway buried in Dan’s ass. For a moment, they’re all stock-still. Nobody moves a muscle. Nobody even dares to breathe._ _

__Dan, tears still streaming down his face, meets Arin’s huge dark eyes._ _

__Then, suddenly -_ _

__“Help!” Arin screams at the top of his lungs. “He’s down here, he’s hurting Dan!”_ _

__Arin’s deep, powerful voice, at full volume, is practically loud enough to shake the walls. Dan flinches instinctively._ _

__“Shut up!” the black-haired man hisses at Arin. “Shut up, shut up, I’ll fuckin’ - ”_ _

__“He’s down here with us!” Arin yells even more loudly. “Down here! Hey!”_ _

__“Shut the fuck up, you fat whore! I’ll kill your stupid friend and your dumb slut wife if you don’t shut the fuck up!”_ _

__Dan feels the Taser push against the back of his neck. _Oh God, please no, please._ He can almost smell that sickening ozone electrical stench, but he knows it’s all in his head. After watching Arin react to a shock from the Taser, Dan’s terror of it had grown. Arin’s fucking _tough_ , and if something made him scream, Dan knows that it’s going to be hellish. _ _

__“Arin, stop,” he whimpers, as quietly as he can. “I’m scared, please stop, he’s going to hurt me.”_ _

__Arin shuts up fast, looking at Dan with horror and shame._ _

__But it’s too late. The footsteps above them suddenly start to speed up, like the people have broken into a run._ _

__The black-haired man curses and pulls his dick out of Dan’s ass. Dan cries out at the rough movement and his knees buckle. Luckily he doesn’t have far to fall._ _

__“Shut up, _shut up_ , roll on your back and shut your whore legs! Do it now! _Do it!_ ” the man hisses. He fumbles at Arin’s cuffs, unlocking them and whipping them into his pocket as fast as he can. “Shit, shit, fuck. Don’t you two dare say a word, do you fuckin’ hear me? You go along with my story or I’ll - ”_ _

__“What the fuck is going on down here?”_ _

__The boss’s booming voice comes from the top of the stairs, smooth and collected._ _

__Arin’s hand grabs Dan’s. Their eyes meet. Dan’s so shaken that he can’t tell what the look Arin’s giving him is supposed to mean._ _

__“Nothing, boss,” the black haired man answers. Dan can hear the panic beneath his attempt at a casual tone. Dan rolls onto his back and sees the black-haired man frantically pulling on his pants. “I heard our prisoners making some noise and came down to check on them.”_ _

__“Really? That’s interesting.” The boss comes down the staircase slowly. Dan can‘t look at him. He wishes he could just throw himself into Arin’s arms again and hide his face from all of this._ _

__“Why didn’t you tell me that there might be a problem and get me to come down to check, like I asked?”_ _

__“I didn’t want to wake you up, boss.”_ _

__“Why was Arin yelling?”_ _

__“I don’t know.”_ _

__“You don’t know?” the boss repeats, raising an eyebrow. “That’s funny. Was it maybe because he was upset that you were doing something you were specifically told not to do with Dan?”_ _

__Dan holds his breath._ _

__“No.” The black-haired man shuffles his feet, then starts talking very fast. “I don’t have my weapons on me. Neither of them were hit, look. They’re totally fine. How could I make Dan do anything without a weapon? Arin’s not tied up. He could - ”_ _

__“Shut up,” the boss says quietly. “Arin, why did you yell?”_ _

__Slowly, the black-haired man’s eyes move to Arin’s face._ _

__Arin’s eyes dart around the room before settling somewhere on the wall. “He’s lying,” he says hoarsely. “He came down here and he - he handcuffed me and threatened my wife. And then he…he raped Dan.”_ _

__Dan winces at the word._ _

__“Is that right,” the boss says, still quiet._ _

__More footsteps, and then the big man appears at the boss’s side, looking sleep-rumpled but still dangerous._ _

__Arin keeps his voice steady. “Yes. He stopped when he heard you. The handcuffs are in his pocket. And he does have a weapon. He used it on me and threatened Dan with it. It’s a Taser.”_ _

__The black-haired man’s icy eyes blaze._ _

__The big man _tsks_ , looking amused. “I told you, boss, he’d never listen. He’s been a problem from the start.”_ _

__“He’s a fucking liar,” the black-haired man says through clenched teeth._ _

__“Well, it should be easy enough to prove,” the boss muses, looking at his associate._ _

__“You’re right, boss, it should,” the big man agrees._ _

__“Will you check Dan for me? Let’s see who’s lying here.”_ _

__The big man strides over to the bed and grabs Dan’s knees, pulling them open. Dan turns red as he’s exposed for everyone to see. The big man slips a hand behind his balls and touches his wet hole, casually, clinically. Dan stays limp and lets him do it. His heart is pounding so loud, he thinks it might be visible through his chest like a cartoon._ _

__“Yeah,” he says quietly. “You can definitely tell. Feels wet and stretched, for sure. He did it, boss, he disobeyed you.”_ _

__“I didn’t!” screams the black-haired man. “How do you know it was me? They were probably fucking each other or something, I don’t know!”_ _

__“After how much you beat him yesterday, I doubt Dan was in the mood to fool around,” the big man says dryly. “You really think they started feeling frisky in this shithole? That’s what you expect me to believe?”_ _

__“They were probably comforting each other and - ”_ _

__“They look real comfortable,” the big man sniggers._ _

__The boss looks furious. “I’m not a fucking idiot.”_ _

__“I didn’t - ”_ _

__“Shut up,” the boss snaps, and the black-haired man falls silent. “Get out of my sight. You’re done.”_ _

__“Boss, I - ”_ _

__“I said, you’re done. You’re out of the deal.”_ _

__The black-haired man stares daggers at Arin. And then he changes, his posture slumping, his tone turning weaselly. “Boss, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to fuck him so bad. I…”_ _

__“Out, or I kill you right here.”_ _

__Arin gets a savage look of satisfaction on his face as the black-haired man whirls away and flees up the stairs._ _

__A look passes between the two remaining captors. The boss says to the big man, “Follow him, make sure he leaves.”_ _

__“Yes, boss.”_ _

__“And now,” the boss says slowly, “what do we do with you two?”_ _

__Dan sees them both staring at him and just wants to cry. Arin puts an arm around him._ _

__The boss strokes his chin and looks dispassionately at Dan. “Maybe you both need a glass of water and a piece of bread.”_ _

__Dan’s empty stomach growls. He looks up hopefully._ _

__“Does that sound good?” the boss asks, directing the question to Arin._ _

__Cautious, Arin nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles._ _

__“What was that?”_ _

__“Thank you!”_ _

__“Good, that’s better. Now, you two keep being good and patient, and when I’m done dealing with business upstairs, I’ll bring you your bread.”_ _

__“Thank you,” Dan whispers too when the boss looks at him. He gets an approving nod and actually feels a wave of relief. It’s fucked up that he’s truly grateful - that he feels comforted by the boss being nice to him. He doesn’t know what it means or what it says about himself, but he knows he’s struggling under a blanket of shame._ _

__The two men disappear upstairs._ _

__Dan feels fresh hot tears trickling down his cheeks, but is surprised when the first sob rings out through the stillness. It didn’t come from him._ _

__“Arin?” Dan whispers. Arin’s turning away from him, letting his long hair cover his face. Dan feels his heart being squeezed in his chest. “Arin!”_ _

__“I couldn’t,” Arin chokes. “I c-couldn’t - I…I scared you, I risked so much…”_ _

__“Don’t cry,” Dan pleads, feeling his heart shatter. “Oh, Arin, I’m glad you saved me. I was only scared for a second. I’m sorry he hurt you. I’m sorry. If I had just been faster to do what he said…”_ _

__Arin shakes his head. Slowly, he lifts his eyes to meet Dan’s. He looks - broken, defeated, nothing like the Arin that Dan knew._ _

__“I couldn’t save you,” Arin whispers. “I couldn’t save you and I can’t save her. What the fuck do I have left?”_ _

__“I’m still here.” Clumsily, Dan tries to hug Arin around the chest. “I’m still here. I’m okay.” That was a lie, but he says it without his voice breaking. “You don’t have to save me.”_ _

__“I promised myself…always…I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. Either of you. And now…”_ _

__“You’re trying. I know you’re trying. And you did save me, you stopped him…”_ _

__“After he hurt you. After he made you…”_ _

__“It doesn’t matter,“ Dan stresses. The sound of Arin’s voice, Arin sounding so raw and emotional, is the worst thing Dan’s ever heard. “You did all you could. If you had tried anything else he would have tortured you and made me watch.”_ _

__“I can’t ever forgive myself for letting that happen to you,” Arin whispers. “Ever. They’re going to kill you both in front of me and I’m just going to let that happen, too.”_ _

__Dan grabs Arin’s hand. It’s awful to hear Arin say such things, but Dan makes himself look composed. Arin’s been so strong for him, all this time. Now he has to be strong for Arin._ _

__“I forgive you. I love you, Arin. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Ever since I met you, I’ve loved you, and - and everything we’ve been through together these last few years has given my whole life meaning. If this…if this is how we go, I’m glad I met you, and I’ll forever be grateful for how much you’ve fought for me.”_ _

__The dam fully breaks then, and Arin buries his face in Dan’s neck and sobs until his breath is gone and he’s a shaking, whimpering mess._ _

__Dan buries the pain down and holds him, focusing only on the memories of the good times. How happy Arin had been - how happy he’d made Dan. How happy they would be again if only they could escape…god, Dan would never take anything for granted ever again._ _

__He kisses Arin on the top of his head and resolves never to give up. No matter how bad things seemed, there was always hope._ _


	5. 5

Over the past few days, Arin had been through hell. The physical torture, the rape, the stun gun, the lack of food, the psychological terror - his body felt sore all over to the point where he forgot what it felt like to _not_ hurt. Sitting was a struggle. Standing made him want to puke. And even lying down, he couldn’t get comfortable. Not on this lumpy, stinking bed, stained with terrorized sweat and blood from where Dan’s wounds had soaked through his bandages. 

But none of that compared to the guilt that smothered him, haunting him, killing him slowly from the inside. 

Dan was putting on a brave face for him. Whenever Arin caught his gaze, he pulled back the corners of his mouth like he was trying to smile. After Arin’s breakdown last night, Dan clearly wanted to help him. But when Arin looked away, Dan’s face morphed back into an awful, lost blankness. It was the look of an animal that had been caught in a trap so long that it was beyond struggling to save itself - it was just waiting for it all to end. It shook Arin to the core. Dan was the eternal ray of sunshine, the pure, the sweetheart that honestly just wanted to make the world a better place and enjoy its beauty to the fullest extent. To think that his light could be extinguished forever was frightening.

Arin’s mind can’t stop spinning. He can’t help but feel like he’d failed Dan. 

_I could have grabbed the Taser. I could have grabbed it by the firing end, even if it he turned it on and hurt me. I should have been up and fighting the second I heard a noise…_

It was probably stupid. Even if Arin was bigger than the black-haired man, he was weak and in pain. His reflexes were understandably slow. There was no guarantee that the man wouldn’t have been faster, would have gotten Dan with the taser instead and subjected him to more pain.

_You didn’t even try._

Arin shifts uncomfortably. _But he’d threatened Suzy…_

 _He was bluffing. He had no authority. The big man likes Suzy, he wouldn’t let her starve…_

Arin wonders if Suzy’s eaten today. Last night, their captors had brought him and Dan a simple meal - peanut butter and jelly on white bread - and a carton of orange juice to split. They’d even thrown their dirty clothes in the laundry. After, overwhelmed by the shock of food after days without and from the stress of the night’s events, they’d passed out hard. And now, the next day - is it the next day? Is it daylight? Arin has no idea. Down here, it’s impossible to tell. Either way, they were awake, sitting on the bed with their backs against the headboard, awaiting the new horrors they’d no doubt be facing when their captors next appeared. 

Dan jumps at every tiny noise. His eyes constantly dart into the shadows, as if the black-haired man was hiding in the room somewhere. He’d only left Arin’s side once - to use the toilet and to get water from the hose. It tastes rusty and stale, but it’s all they have. At least it was ice cold - although that made trying to clean themselves that much harder. Arin had found a lumpy yellow brick of soap stuck firmly to the bottom of the tub, and managed to scrub some of the filth off of himself, but it hadn’t been a pleasant experience. He’d offered to help Dan do the same, but Dan had quickly shaken his head.

Maybe the memories of Arin holding him still in that same tub as antiseptic was poured in his open cuts were still too strong.

Arin winces again, hating himself for what he’d done even though he’d had no choice. The feeling of Dan’s small naked body struggling against him, the wetness of his open mouth screaming into Arin’s palm…

Dan had said after that he still loved Arin, but it wasn’t an easy thing to forget. And Arin is a long way from forgiving himself.

“Are you okay?” Dan asks softly, laying his hand on Arin’s arm.

Arin, startled out of his thoughts, looks up at Dan. He has on that forced brave face again and his big eyes are warm with real concern behind his curtain of hair. Somehow, through the bruises and paleness and unkempt unwashed hair, Dan still looks beautiful. Beautiful and innocent - too innocent to be treated like this.

Arin’s heart breaks again for him. “I’m fine,” he lies. “Just…thinking.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Dan looks wistful. 

Arin takes Dan’s hand and laces their fingers together. He doesn’t need to ask what Dan’s thinking about. He knows the answer already.

“I can’t believe I still feel full,” Arin says instead to change the subject. “It feels weird to not be hungry.”

“When we get out of here, we’ll go to Wendy’s,” Dan says, with an attempt at a smile. “On me.”

“Yeah,” Arin says, like he believes it too. “When we get out.”

“Maybe they’ll let us go,” Dan offers. “We’ll convince them that we won’t go to the cops. Maybe they’ll let us go in the middle of nowhere. So even if we did go to the cops, they know the trail will be cold.”

“Sure,” Arin replies tonelessly. “They’ll get bored of us.” 

“Or maybe the cops will come here. Maybe they left fingerprints at our houses. They didn’t wear gloves and they came in through my front door. There’ll be fingerprints on the knob.”

 _And no way of telling whether those prints were from one of your friends, and no way of tracking someone by their fingerprints unless they were arrested and fingerprinted before._ “Probably.”

“People know we’re gone by now. They’ll know something’s wrong.”

Arin hasn’t let himself think of what his friends and family must be thinking. His window smashed, furniture tipped over from where they’d fought, maybe droplets of blood from when they’d hit Suzy. Likely, they were thinking the worst, and falsely expressing hope to each other, just like Arin and Dan were now. “Yeah,” is all he can say. “They’ll know, and the cops are searching.” That sounds lame, but it’s all he has.

Dan falls silent then, his face pensive. He combs at the tangles in his hair with his fingers, allowing him to hide his face from Arin. 

Arin wishes he could do a better job of keeping their morale up. It’s difficult for him. He can imagine maybe breaking the door down, or him and Dan both running and by some miracle escaping the two men, like in a movie where the good guy just dodges bullets and weapons and always stays just far enough ahead. That idea was, if a little ridiculous, at least physically possible….by a far stretch of imagination. In reality, Arin and Dan were hungry, weak, and unfamiliar with the location, up against two men with weapons that ranged from knives to stun guns to actual guns. It would take incredible dumb luck for any good to come out of making a run for it.

But the variable, of course, is Suzy.

Arin doesn’t know where she is, besides ‘upstairs’, which could mean anything. Arin doesn’t even know how many floors the house has. He doesn’t know where she is, or what condition she’s in, or if she can run, too. He doesn’t know if she’s just in a locked room, or tied up, or gagged so she wouldn’t be able to call to him if he did find the right room and shouted through the door. 

He doesn’t even know if she’s alive, or if that was another lie to make Arin toe the line. 

But he does know that he could not go anywhere without taking Suzy with him. Not for himself, and not even for Dan. And try as he might, Arin can’t think of how he would get all three of them out.

But what was the alternative? Stay here forever, or die? 

Arin’s not sure. But he knows he’s not ready to die. There’s still fight left in him. He just has to push it down, contain it for now, focus on preventing Dan and Suzy from being treated even worse.

After a while, Dan speaks again.

“Do you think he’s really gone?” 

“What?” Arin asks before he thinks.

“I mean the black-haired man, the one who - ” Dan turns pale and doesn’t finish.

 _The one who raped you as I laid there and did nothing._ Arin swallows. “I think so. It seemed like there was a lot of tension between him and the boss from the start.”

“He’ll be so mad if he comes back,” Dan whispers. “But if he doesn’t, that’s even worse. He’s out there, Arin. He’s out there and he’s going to hurt other people. I know he is. I…I almost wish he was still here. If it’s just me he hurts, that’s okay. I’d rather it be me than other people.”

It was such a Dan thing to say. Dan had the biggest heart out of anyone Arin knew. Arin wants to hug him, but not now, not while Dan was thinking about _him._ “Maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll lay low for a while. Or maybe he’ll get cocky and get caught.”

“Maybe,” Dan repeats, but he doesn’t look like he believes it. “But maybe I should have…maybe I shouldn’t have made him so mad in the first place. He wouldn’t have had to sneak around behind the boss’s back to get to me. I should have - ”

“Don’t,” Arin interrupts. “Don’t think like that, what the fuck.”

“It was _stupid_ ,” Dan goes on, bitterly. “The first time he touched me, when I was still upstairs, I was tied up and I had no chance of stopping him. And I still bit him. What was I thinking? I knew I couldn’t get away. I knew all I’d do was piss him off. And that’s what happened. He didn’t - you know…but he beat the shit out of me, and he was angry with me later and that’s probably why he cut me so bad even when the boss told him not to, and then that’s why he snuck down and - ”

“ _Stop_ , Dan, fuck, I can’t listen to this. You know it’s not your fault he’s a sick fuck, you know damn well - ”

Dan visibly shakes himself and rakes a hand roughly through his hair. He exhales loudly and looks at Arin. “I’m sorry. This isn’t coming out the way I meant it to. I’m trying to stay positive. But it’s…it’s hard, Arin.”

“I know. Fuck, I know.”

“I just - I want to have hope, try to make a plan, but everything I think of just seems to be another path to the same horrible ending.”

“What ending is that?” Arin asks, even as his own words from last night float through his head. _They’ll kill you both in front of me…_

“That no matter what I choose, I’ll make it worse for other people. Short of killing all of them with our bare hands, I mean. If we all escape, it won’t be over. They’ll replace us, Arin. We’re not the first and we won’t be the last.”

That thought settles into Arin’s stomach coldly and makes it turn over. “We have to think about ourselves first,” he says as firmly as he can. “We can’t blame ourselves for what they might do to other people. We have to survive.”

“I know,” Dan whispers. “But - I can’t stop thinking about it. Who lived down here first? They’ve had that steel toilet installed for a long time - see the rust. On the walls, you can see where they mounted shackles. This basement was built to be a cell. And - and a torture chamber. The tub - the drains in the floor - the water damage - like they had to hose off blood.”

Arin’s stomach turns over again. He wants Dan to stop. He can picture it all too well - an escape attempt, or maybe someone tried to fight back, and it was too much for the captors to handle - and then they decided to end it and try again with someone else. Or maybe they grew bored and…disposed of them. 

Dan inhales shakily. “Maybe they were people like you - so fucking brave and smart and strong. A-and Suzy, fuck, one of the sweetest people I know. They don’t care. They don’t have souls, they can’t.” 

“Brave and strong?” Arin laughs, but it comes out brittle. “Me?”

Dan meets Arin’s eyes. “They told me they had to drug you to take you out. Your first instinct was to fight, to protect yourself and Suzy, even when you were outnumbered. Even when you’ve been traumatized and hurt and starved, you’ll do anything to try and help, but you’re not stupid about it. You waited until you knew for sure that the boss was upstairs to start yelling. You didn’t care that you might get shocked. You only stopped when it was me he threatened instead.”

Arin stares. “You think it was _brave and smart_ to let one guy handcuff me without struggling at all? I was barely thinking, I was just terrified for you and Suzy - and then all I did was lay there and watch him rape you and I - ”

Dan flinches from the word and looks down quickly.

Arin, immediately feeling sorry, winces and says, “Shit, I didn’t mean to - I meant - ”

“It’s okay,” Dan says quietly, after a short pause. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? It’s just - it’s such an awful, weighted word. It sounds…permanent. Like I’ll never be the same again.”

Arin feels the same way. The act was so much worse than he’d ever imagined. It was painful, degrading, a total violation of his body and soul - and the men had actually gotten _pleasure_ out of doing it to him. And so had the black-haired man, when he’d done it to Dan. No guilt, nothing on his conscience at all - just enjoying what wasn’t his to take, uncaring of the pain he caused.

“You’re still the same,” Arin tells him softly. “What he did doesn’t change you. Not if you don’t let it. He doesn’t have that power.”

Dan’s eyes fill with something like determination. “We can’t let them ruin us. We can’t let this destroy us. They want us to break.”

“And we won’t.”

“Right. And you didn’t _let_ that man hurt me, Arin. You made the smart decision. You know he was armed, what he was capable of. You knew it was hopeless to fight him off. That’s why you didn‘t shout or struggle until you heard the other guys walking upstairs - you were smart enough to wait for a chance.”

“It was because I was fucking scared. Not because I was smart.”

“No,” Dan argues. “If I hadn’t been here, you would have fought until you dropped. But you care about me and wanted me to suffer as little as possible.”

Could he be right? Arin desperately wanted to believe it. “You give me a lot of credit, dude. I don’t know if I deserve it.”

“Fuck yeah, you do. You’re amazing, Arin. I hope I can be as strong as you. I’ll have to be, to get over this if - _when_ we get out of here.”

“You _are_ strong, Danny. Stronger than I am, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe not as cool, but definitely stronger.”

Dan’s smile is faint, but it’s still a smile. He leans against Arin and closes his eyes.

Arin isn’t sure if they fall asleep. Time passes in a funny way down here in the basement. The weight of Dan against him is soothing, and the food in his stomach makes him feel a little more like himself. When he closes his eyes he can imagine them on the Grump couch together, late at night, pressed comfortably close in the peace and safety of their familiar office.

But then a noise shatters the fantasy. 

The door at the top of the stairs bangs open, and Arin freezes. Dan makes a small gasp. When the footsteps begin descending, Arin’s heart begins to pound and he breaks out into a cold sweat. 

The boss is in front, smiling his cold smile at them. “Well, isn’t this cute? The two little lovebirds, all snuggled up together in their cage.”

Arin says nothing. He meets the boss’s eyes, remembering what Dan had said about him being strong and brave. But his lips are trembling and his throat is suddenly parched. He doesn’t feel very brave at all. The boss’s eyes are gleaming like he knows a hilarious secret and he can’t wait to share it.

The big man comes down behind the boss, massive as ever, the rippling muscles on his arms clearly visible in the harsh light. He glances at them both, looking rather bored, and then looks back at the boss to await instruction.

“How are you feeling, Arin?” the boss asks, all fake saccharine. 

“Just peachy,” Arin mumbles. “Having the time of my life.”

The boss actually laughs. Arin doesn’t like that he’s in such high spirits. It can’t bode well. 

“There’s the Arin the fans all know,” he says appreciatively. “Still got some spirit in there, huh?”

Arin jerks his head in a nod.

“But you’re not gonna get feisty with me today, are you?”

Dan is hiding his face in Arin’s shoulder. Arin tries to steady himself so he’s not a trembling mess. “No.”

“So I’m not gonna have to handcuff you and have my friend here drag you upstairs?”

“What?”

“Do I have to repeat myself?” the boss asks, pleasant on the surface.

Arin feels the coldness emanating from that sweet tone. “No. I’ll - come with you.” 

“Do you know where we’re going?”

Arin shakes his head.

“You’re in luck. You get to see my very own bedroom. How does sleeping on a nice California king bed tonight sound?”

 _They want us to break,_ Dan had said. This was some sort of test. The boss wanted to see how far he could push, how much Arin would really do.

Dan thought Arin was brave and strong. Arin could live up to that if he tried. He could take the humiliation and the pain - he could take it, and be strong, for Dan’s sake. “Okay,” he says.

“Just okay?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Arin amends, trying to manufacture a calm, obedient tone.

“Good. Stand up and come with me.”

Dan grabs Arin’s forearm with an ice-cold hand. “No,” he begs, looking at the boss. “Don’t take him. Please don’t take him.”

The boss looks at Dan - bruised, battered and bandaged Dan, with his huge eyes that nobody with a soul could resist - and says, “Shut up, you dumb slut, nobody’s talking to you.”

“Don’t call him that,” Arin blurts.

Dan whispers, “Arin, _don’t -_ ”

The boss laughs, cutting Dan short. “Arin, don’t start digging yourself a hole already. You know damn well what I can do to you if you start with that back talk. I’ll give you that one for free - it isn’t your fault Dan’s such a stupid fuck, or that he’s spineless enough to need you to defend him. But no more chances. Now say you’re sorry.”

Arin grits his teeth, hiding his fury. He knows that they’re just words - they’d faced worse - but it still makes him boil inside to hear Dan insulted. But he doesn’t push it. “I’m sorry,” he says, quietly but clearly.

“That’s better. Alright, come on. Dan, let go of his arm or I’ll break your fingers.”

Dan obeys and grips the mattress instead, so hard his knuckles go white. His chest is rising and falling rapidly. “Just - please don’t hurt him again. Please don’t, we were being good. Please. I love him, please, can I come, too?”

“Eager for more dick, even after last night?” the boss throws back, and Dan’s face goes red. Arin flinches. He’d known this was coming - that he wouldn’t be raped just once - but to stand meekly and submit to it made him want to scream and cry. 

The boss laughs at Dan. “If you want it that bad, maybe Arin will give you some when he gets back. You two certainly looked like you were getting cozy. But you’re gonna have to wait a while, honey.”

Dan looks down. The light catches the tear that falls down his cheek.

Arin’s heart gives a sharp twinge. “I’m going to be okay,” he tells Dan, even though it’s a bald-faced lie. “Don’t worry about me.”

“What if they never bring you back?” Dan whispers. “What if this is the last time - ”

Arin won’t think about that - can’t think about that. He cups Dan’s chin and presses his thumb to Dan’s parted lips to gently shush him. 

“Don’t,” he says quietly. “I’m not going anywhere. Don’t even think such a thing.”

Dan shudders and closes his eyes. “I won’t be able to help it. Once they leave me alone down here and turn the lights off, I’ll be - it’ll just be me and my thoughts and nothing else. Arin, I’m _scared._ ”

What can Arin say? The pitch blackness of the basement had terrified him, too. Being underground in the darkness was different than being in a dark bedroom or outside at night. The way the walls swallowed sound and seemed to drink in the blackness - the way your eyes never quite adjusted to the full dark, and seemed to hallucinate movement at the corners of your vision. The stench of the cold dark earth, like being in a grave. 

Dan kisses Arin’s thumb, then ducks his head and presses his face into Arin’s palm. It’s strangely intimate and trusting. His breath is hot and moist on Arin’s skin. “I love you, Arin. Just in case, I want you to know. I…”

“I love you too.” Arin feels a surge of protectiveness, and then his shame hits him again with doubled strength. That someone could deliberately torture such a beautiful innocent man was evil of such magnitude that it defied the imagination. 

“Stand _up_ , Arin,” the boss orders harshly. “He’ll be back, Dan, don’t worry. I’m gonna have fun with him but I’m not gonna kill him. He’s not the disposable one. That’s you, honey. With our friend gone, you’re nobody’s favourite anymore. You’re a fun toy, but if we have to teach a permanent lesson - well, honey, you’re first in line. Remember that. Now lay down and don’t move. If you try to come after us, you can spend your time alone chained to the bed.”

 _He’s saying it just to hurt you, don’t respond._ Arin tells himself, but it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do to stand up silently and obey the man who just casually told Dan that he’d die first, as a _lesson._

Dan, to his credit, sucks back the tears and sinks down onto his back. He makes eye contact with Arin, but before Arin can mouth any last words of comfort, the boss grabs him by the arm and yanks him toward the stairs. 

Arin makes his legs move robotically. He feels like a cow being led to slaughter as he ascends the stairs. It feels so strange when the moist, thick air of the basement suddenly lifts as they make it above ground level. Suddenly the air is dry and warm, and the stink of mildew is gone. Arin feels almost like he can breathe normally again. 

“No funny business,” the boss reminds him as he unlocks the door to their prison. “You can try to run, but you won’t make it very far - and instead of coming for a nice little visit in my room, we’ll sit down and watch my friend have fun with Suzy instead.”

Nausea grips Arin’s throat. “Okay,” he says, his voice rough.

“Good.”

A blast of light makes Arin shield his eyes. The boss waits for the big man to exit, then locks the door behind them with a key from his pocket and secures a deadbolt and chain. Arin stares at the locks, thinking it’d be far easier to break in than out. Locks could be picked - deadbolts were much more secure. There was no way that he and Dan would ever be able to get out on their own. His eyes fall on the doorway to what looks like a kitchen. There’s a knife rack just barely visible beside the sink - probably just big bread knives and chef‘s knives, but even that would be something. If they ever got the chance to get out of the basement, and Arin and Dan both had a knife…

_They have guns, you idiot. What are you gonna do with your big dull chopping knife against a gun?_

“Getting some bright ideas?” the boss asks sunnily, jangling his keys in Arin‘s face to taunt him.

“No.” Arin looks around the room instead. It’s a dismal living room - cluttered and messy - and there were windows, with blinds turned shut, letting in sunlight between the cracks. Arin guesses from the sheer brightness that it must be close to noon.

“Good. I’m not in the mood to see your wife right now. She’s like the worst of you and Dan. As feisty as you - but she cries all the time like Dan, and it can get annoying pretty fast. Not that my friend here cares, isn’t that right?” He jerks his thumb at the big man, who seems to be listening with only half an ear. “ _He_ likes her a lot. Thinks that shrill voice is actually cute. Doesn’t seem to mind when she whines like a bitch.”

 _He wants you to react, he wants you to fight, don’t do it. Don’t fucking do it._ Arin tries to focus on mapping the place out, seeing where the basement door was relative to the second staircase to the upper level, what kind of locks might be on the windows.

The boss is quick to pick up on what he’s doing, despite Arin’s attempts to hide it. He laughs. “You’re not a complete idiot, are you? No wonder you’re the big boss of your company. Well, never mind. If I thought there was any chance of you escaping based on knowing the layout of the house, I would have blindfolded you. I’m getting impatient. Up the stairs - you first.”

“Okay,” Arin mutters. 

Arin feels his legs protest as he starts to climb the next staircase. He’d been motionless for so long that even climbing up from the basement had been a struggle. By the time he’s halfway up, he’s out of breath - but he doesn’t think about that, or consider how that was yet another obstacle in their way from escaping. Not when he can see a corridor at the top of the stairs. A corridor with a dead end. Only five doors branch from it. Five doors - and the house wasn’t big, not from what Arin had seen of the main level. Five doors, five rooms, and Suzy was in one of them. 

Arin purposely slows his pace so he can look everywhere at once. Five doors. One is cracked open. Two are closed, but seem to have no visible locks. One has a keyhole, but that’s it. And one is thicker than the others, fitted tighter to the frame without light shining through from beneath. There’s a sliding deadbolt lock, and another padlocked chain. Another curious feature is a small slot lower down - like the kind prison doors had, where you could push in trays of food.

 _Suzy_ , Arin thinks, his breath coming faster. He’s so distracted that he trips on the top stair and falls heavily forward with a pained grunt.

“Jesus, you shook the fucking house,” the boss grumbles. “Get up, you clumsy fuck, stop blocking my way. You should be lucky you didn’t fall backward and take me out with you.” 

Arin gets to his feet. His blood is roaring in his ears. It’s maddening to be this close to her. He wants to scream her name. He wants to see her face - he needs to tell her how much he loves her. He can’t remember the last time he said it, fuck. Surely it was the night before they were taken - they always said _I love you_ before bed - but Arin can’t fucking remember, God, he can’t remember it - all he can remember is the way she’d lunged at their captors and the sound of a fist hitting her in the face - the way she’d begged them not to hurt Arin -

“Please let me see her once,” he blurts, half-turning around.

“What?” 

“Let me - ”

The boss grabs Arin’s arm and digs his nails in. “You want her to come with us, is that it?”

“No,” Arin pleads, his eyes welling up. His control is crumbling fast. He feels like he could scream, like he could just have a complete breakdown. He holds on - but just barely.

“Then what the fuck do you want?”

Arin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I…I want to just - to see her, and tell her that I…”

“That you _love_ her?” the boss finishes mockingly.

“Yes,” Arin whispers.

The boss looks over Arin’s shoulder. Arin feels a presence behind him, huge and looming. 

“It might make him easier to control,” the big man says, in his frighteningly soft, calm voice that seemed so out of place coming from such a massive, hulking man.

“What do you mean?” the boss asks, frowning.

“Let them have a look at each other. Let them see that they’re both in decent shape - but that we aren’t fucking around, either. It’ll be good for them. It’ll remind ‘em both to keep behaving.”

The boss seems to consider this. Arin holds his breath, not daring to look directly at him.

“You might be right,” the boss finally says. “Go in there first, then. Don’t do anything funny, just make sure you’re ready to grab her if she makes a fuss. Tell her to sit still, tell her we have Arin for her to visit. Make her understand that she’s not to move from the bed unless we tell her to.”

“Got it.” The big man slips past them. 

The boss turns to Arin, who’s watching the locks come undone with an open mouth. “Hey,” he barks, snapping his fingers. “Eyes on me. Listen, Arin, and listen good. This doesn’t happen often. Getting a privilege like this is rare. I trust you understand the stakes here.”

“I understand. I won’t try anything. I’ll be good.” Arin speaks fast, tongue tripping over the words. He’s shaking like a leaf, excited and half-afraid that this was some sort of trick. “I swear. I’ll do anything. I’ll let you do anything to me and I won’t struggle.”

The boss looks amused, but his eyes flare bright. One of his hands is on the doorknob. Right there, on the unlocked doorknob, the only thing separating Arin from Suzy. But he’s smirking, like it’s fun to tease Arin. “I don’t know,” he says, almost playfully. “What can you do for me that I can’t just tie you up and take?”

“I can…I can…be willing. Say whatever you want or, or…”

His captor comes close, his hot breath on Arin’s face. “Will you beg for my dick? Moan for me? Get on your hands and knees and spread that nice big ass with your hands, let me play with your hole however I want? Touch yourself for me and try to make yourself come as I shove my fingers in you and milk your prostate?”

“Yes,” Arin says mindlessly, “yes, I will, anything you want - ”

“I like you like this,” the boss says with a pleased sigh. “I like you feisty and screaming, and I like you passive and broken…but if you give me more of this - desperate and shameless - I think I’ll have more fun with you than I ever thought.”

Arin just nods. What does it matter what they do with him? He can take it. He just needs to see Suzy. Arin looks right into the boss’s cold eyes and revolting crumbling grin and doesn’t flinch. He needs to be what the captor wants him to be - submissive and desperate, totally benign. When the boss’s hand cups the side of his face almost tenderly, Arin’s breath quickens, but he otherwise doesn’t move.

“Alright,” the boss breathes, searching Arin’s eyes. “Yeah, alright. I think we can trust you as long as you fully understand that her - well, not her life, I don’t want to kill her - but her well-being is in your hands. We can make her suffer more than you can imagine…or we can take care of her. It’s all up to you.”

He opens the door, then steps back to gesture Arin inside.

Arin goes, body tight with trepidation.

And time stands still.

Suzy’s room is as bare and cell-like as Arin and Dan’s basement, but cleaner and brighter - though that wasn’t saying much. There’s a sink and toilet - and actual toilet paper, a luxury he and Dan weren’t afforded. The bed is narrow - almost just a cot - with slightly yellowed sheets and a pillow and a blanket. 

But Arin doesn’t notice any of that.

All he sees is Suzy, his beautiful wife, sitting on the edge of her bed and looking up at him with her lips parted in shock. 

The sight of her pale, upturned face blots out everything else. Looking into her eyes, Arin feels a powerful wave of homesickness and heartsickness overcome him and he actually stumbles back as if he’d been physically struck. Every fibre of him is screaming to go to her, hold her, protect and comfort her - except the boss is behind him, with a warning hand on his back. And the big man is sitting beside Suzy on the bed, reclining casually and tapping a finger rhythmically against the stun gun in his hand. The red switch is off, but the sight of it still makes Arin shudder.

“Suzy…” Arin says hoarsely, trembling all over. 

A single tear rolls down Suzy’s cheek. She bites her lip. “Oh, Arin, I thought you were dead. I…I begged them to let me see you, but they wouldn’t let me.”

“I begged to see you too,” Arin says hoarsely. “I love you. I love you so much, Suzy.”

“I love you too.” Suzy bows her head, sniffling. “I missed you. I can’t tell you how much. I…Arin…”

“Don’t cry,” Arin begs helplessly, but he’s on the verge of tears himself and it’s not helping. It feels so wrong to have this moment hindered by the presence of their captors, but he tries to make it last - tries to memorize every detail of his wife’s beautiful face, to carry with him when he’s made to leave her again. 

It’s only then that he realizes what she’s wearing. 

They’d given Arin and Dan back their own clothes, but not Suzy. She’s in a filmy sheer nightie, which covered her to mid-thigh while sitting but was probably just barely over her butt when she stood up. It’s so sheer that Arin can see the underwear she has on beneath - also not her own. She would never buy a bra that was so clearly the wrong size, spilling out and over the tops of the cups in a way that was visually appealing but clearly not comfortable.

They had done this to her for their sick enjoyment - dressed her up like a toy, an ornament - had humiliated and objectified her, stripping away her dignity. And they wanted Arin to see. They wanted Arin to know. Or at least, the big man did - he had convinced the boss to let Arin see her, knowing the pain it would bring him.

Unless it was all another lie. Maybe it wasn’t a ‘sudden decision’ by the boss after all. Maybe everything was calculated, every move made to manipulate them, break them, keep them shaken and broken…

Suzy catches his gaze and looks away. 

Arin glances to the side. The big man’s eyes never leave Suzy, and he’s not looking at her face.

Arin seethes inside. “Are you hurt?” he asks, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. “Did they…did he…”

Suzy hesitates for a half-second but shakes her head. She glances at their captors, sitting and watching and listening. “I…I got hit hard when they took us, but nothing worse than that.”

Arin feels queasy. He doesn’t think she’s telling the truth. He doesn’t push her - he doesn’t know what she was told not to talk about - and he doesn’t want to lose himself. Thinking about his wife being treated in the same way as himself and Dan would drive him crazy. Helpless, he swallows it back, tries to focus on something else, anything else. The presence of their tormentors in the room is agony.

“Your wrists…” Arin sees the yellow-and-purple bruising on the inside of her wrists when she turns her hands over in her lap. 

“It’s nothing, Arin, I was just grabbed hard. You - oh god, Arin, you look like you’ve been through hell.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Arin lies. He doesn’t look too bad, physically - but Suzy knows him, and she can see the fear in his eyes, the broken look that Arin knew was hanging over him the way it hung over Dan after he’d been raped. But he would not, for anything, tell Suzy what they’d done to him.

The cold horror in her eyes tells him he might not have to. They know each other too well. 

Oh, God, this was torture. Arin can hardly stand it. 

Suzy visibly collects herself. “Are you…being fed? You look like you’ve lost weight…and it’s only been a few days…”

“They fed us once,” Arin tells her. “Sandwiches and juice.”

Suzy looks frightened and what little colour she had drains from her face. “What do you mean?”

“What?”

“Who’s…who’s _us_?”

 _She doesn’t know Dan’s here._ He’d forgotten about that. Arin opens his mouth, his tongue frozen. He doesn’t want to give her more reason to be upset - but he’d already given it away. 

She won’t let it go. “Who else is there? Arin? Arin!”

“It’s…it’s Dan,” Arin says weakly. 

Suzy winces and fresh tears spring to her eyes. “Oh, God. Why…oh, Dan, he doesn’t…none of us deserve this, but…he’s so…”

The big man is watching Suzy’s tears with mild interest. Arin finds it disconcerting. He tries to turn his head to subtly block him from view. “I know. It’s…awful.”

“Is he okay?” Suzy asks tremulously. “They didn’t…they couldn’t have laid a hand on him, he would never fight…”

Arin tightens his lips, and that’s enough of an answer. Suzy bows her head and lets out a quiet, heart wrenching sob.

“He’s strong,” Arin says, lamely. “He’ll be okay. We’ll all be okay. We just have to…to keep faith.”

“Faith,” Suzy echoes hollowly, her eyes bleak. “Faith in what?”

Arin has no answer. He looks at her, his heart heavy, wishing to God or whatever cosmic force there was that he could sacrifice himself, stay here to please the captors’ sick desires and have Dan and Suzy return to safety. His own comfort didn’t matter - his own life didn’t matter. Dan and Suzy could take care of each other, if only…

“Okay, wrap it up,” the boss orders, clapping his hands hard. “Come on, this has gone on long enough.”

Suzy swallows. “Give Dan all my love,” she whispers. “Tell him…tell him what a great friend he’s been to me, how much he’s meant to us.”

“I will.” Arin thinks it sounds too much like a final goodbye. His heart is ripping in half.

“And…I love you, Arin. Never forget that. I love you so much and I…I’m proud to be your wife. I’m thankful for all the years we’ve had with each other.”

They’re both crying openly now. Arin finds it hard to speak. “Me too, Suzy,” is all he has. “We’ve had so much fun together. So many good times. I love you and I - I always will.”

The boss grabs Arin by the wrist and yanks him toward the door. Desperate, Arin twists his neck around, hoping for one final look at Suzy’s face - but quick as that, it’s gone, and Arin is back in the corridor, feeling totally drained.

The door closes behind them. Arin hears the locks click into place, as loud and final as gunfire. 

_The big man is still in there with her…_

“You see, Arin,” the boss says in a low, oily voice. “When you’re a good boy, I don’t have to hurt the people you love.”

_You hurt her, you fucking liar. You hurt her and you’re leaving her alone with that…that scum…_

Arin lets the anger wash over him. “Yes,” is all he says.

“You’ll keep being a good boy for me, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Call me _sir_.”

“Yes, sir.”

The boss is pleased. Arin casts his eyes away from his smug face. But there’s nothing he can do - nowhere to run - nothing to hope for except that he’ll do a good enough job pleasuring the boss that no harm will come to Dan or Suzy.

A hand grabs Arin’s wrist, hard. He’s pulled flush against the boss’s body, stinking hot breath in his face. He leans away, but the boss closes the distance, backing Arin against the wall. Arin feels a hardness pressing against him, hears the boss’s low chuckle.

“Come with me, sweetheart. Time to have some real fun.”


	6. 6

Arin isn’t sure what he’s expecting when he steps into the boss’s own bedroom at the top of the ramshackle house that was his prison. 

When the door swung open, he’d shuddered, going cold and goosebumpy all over like a chilly breeze emanated from within. He’s half-sure it’s going to be some sort of sex dungeon in there - a bondage-rigged fantasy, done up in the porno movie black and red, full of tools that suited a sadist’s penchant for torture. Whips and chains and frightening devices with spikes, blood stains on the floor.

The reality is almost more frightening in its normalcy. Arin, prodded inside by a firm hand on his lower back, looks around cautiously. There’s a bed, obviously - just a regular four poster bed, with a grey plaid comforter messily made over white sheets. A desk and chair. Magazines open on the desk and an ashtray full of butts. A scanty bookshelf, an open closet with a laundry hamper and clothes strewn both on and around it. It looks like it could be the bedroom of any mid-forties bachelor with a working-class job and little money to spend on extravagancies. 

Arin, who was used to thinking of the boss and his cronies as monsters, is disconcerted by the reminder of their humanity. These weren’t storybook villains. They were people - people who, as Dan had pointed out, had made a habit out of kidnapping and torturing others. People that had casually committed murder and probably a slew of other atrocities, but still bought subscriptions to _Guns and Ammo_ and fucking Field and Stream. While he and Dan were holding each other, wounded and hurting in the basement, this man was probably sitting up here reading about the finer details of Alamo precision rifles and _Top Five Best AR-15 Cartridges_.

“You’re very lucky,” the boss declares suddenly.

Arin stays silent. He feels a derisive laugh bubbling up his throat, but he wisely holds it back.

“I’ve never brought one of my toys up here before,” the boss goes on. Arin hears a lock click shut. Padlocked from the inside. Not that he was going to try and get out, not when Suzy was just down the hall, with _him_. Arin digs his nails into his palm and reminds himself to breathe, deep and slow. Calm. In and out, in through his nose, out through his mouth.

“’Course,” the boss adds, as Arin hears the distinctive _clink_ of chain sliding against chain, “not many have lasted more than a day here.”

The boss comes into Arin’s line of sight, holding a length of chain attached to a wide cuff. He throws the coiled chain on the bed and bends to wrap the other end around one of the bedposts.

“You killed them,” Arin says through his dry throat. “There were others…”

“Disappointing experiments,” the boss answers lightly.

“How many?” Arin isn’t sure he wants to know the answer, but he can’t stop himself.

The boss just laughs. “I could probably stop and count ’em up if I cared to. There haven’t been _that_ many. People tend to notice when people go missing…unless they’re homeless drug addicts or prostitutes to begin with. And _they’re_ no good, you can do whatever you want to them for cheap money anyway. We tried one at a time, but the effect of isolation was…not ideal. They stopped fighting us. Stopped fighting to live. One refused to eat.”

Arin breathes in deep through his nose, thinking of Dan alone downstairs, telling Arin how frightened he’d be without Arin. “You let them starve.”

“Too long, too messy. I put him out of his misery when he was too weak to get up and use the toilet.”

Arin can’t handle thinking about that. Some young man - or maybe even a teenager, fuck, this dirt bag wouldn’t care - lying on that mattress, eyes dull and weak, faint with hunger. When he saw the boss coming for him - when the boss took out his gun or started to strangle him or however he did it - did he have strength left enough to fight? Surely he would, instinctively…or maybe at first, until he realized, like Arin, that fighting was useless.

Or maybe he just breathed a sigh of relief and embraced it.

“Why?” It’s a stupid question. There’s no way the boss is going to confess his motives. But Arin can’t help himself. “Why do you do this? Why did you take _us_?”

“I like pretty playthings,” the boss says with a shrug. “We all do. It could have been anyone, but I had my eye on you.”

Arin looks at the floor.

The boss pauses for so long that Arin isn’t sure he’ll continue, but eventually he speaks again. “It all started with my not-so-dear friend, the one that liked Danny so much.”

Arin feels a murderous wave of rage wash over him at the thought of that man. “Why did he - ”

“He saw Dan at a restaurant one day. Followed him around. Saw him go into that place you work, hung around there for a while to see if he’d come out again. He was fascinated. He started looking up who he was, and found a nice little collection of jerk-off material. By that I mean a bunch of videos and stuff with Dan in them. Music videos, random stuff with him hanging out with you and your coworkers. He liked that other one, the small one - what’s his name…” 

Arin doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.

The boss snaps his fingers and grins. “Ross. That’s it. Anyway, so he comes to me, says he’s found another toy to collect. Says he’s got the money to pay up front, okay, sure. 

“So I watch the videos. We had an idea to try and grab him at work - you gave us a nice little layout of the place in your office tour video - but we nixed that fast when we saw how many people were hanging around all the time. And while we were figuring that out, you caught my eye, and I got to thinking, it sure would be convenient to get two toys that were friends, so I could threaten one with hurting the other. And at the same time, if I kept you together, you would have someone to talk to and not lose your marbles altogether.”

“And Suzy - ”

“I might have just killed her the night I took you, unless I could knock her out fast enough that she didn’t have shit to tell the cops later. But when I told my friend about the plans, and linked him to your videos, he zeroed in on Suzy. That’s his type - the sweet girly girl, the high-pitched voice, the cutesy appeal. When he started obsessing over her, it all just…worked. We could grab all three of you with only two stops, and have a toy for each of us. It was a bit of a risk, but we’ve done this before. You were tough, I’ll give you that. But a little shot of etorphine and you were out. Suzy was easy once we got you.” He laughs derisively. “And then there’s Dan. Fucking Dan. All of our careful planning, and that stupid bitch leaves his door unlocked. I almost pissed myself laughing, I swear.”

“He’s not stupid,” Arin whispers.

“Well, he sure as hell isn’t smart, is he?” He laughs again. “He just came with us, all tame. Let himself be tied up nicely. Good thing, too, because I was worried etorphine would kill him if we had to resort to that. But everything worked out in our favour - and our friend got Dan for free in exchange for helping us with you and Suzy.”

Arin can’t quite hide the anger on his face at hearing Dan referred to as a commodity, to be bought and sold or given away. His eyes go to the window. Light streams in through off-white blinds. He wonders what he could see if he peeked through - other houses maybe, or a road in the distance, or - 

“You’d hurt yourself trying to smash that,” the boss says, stepping up behind Arin and placing his arms around Arin’s waist. His hardness presses insistently into Arin’s ass, and Arin leans away instinctively. The man’s grip is tight, and he can’t go anywhere.

“What happened to being willing, sweetheart?” he asks softly, right into Arin’s ear. He grinds his hips forward, slotting himself into the crease of Arin’s ass through their clothing with a sigh. “Trying to get away already? Thinking about tossing yourself from the window, trying to run away from us with a broken foot or leg?”

“No,” Arin says, low and hoarse. His mind is still buzzing. He can’t help but think that it was all his fault that they were taken. If he had never met Dan, he wouldn’t have come and stayed in California, would have never attracted the attention of the black-haired man. And if Arin had followed Jon’s advice and kept Game Grumps small and limited, a side source of income, he would never have accumulated all the live-action videos, and Suzy would have probably kept going in retail management. It all came back to Arin. 

“Well, that’s good.” The man slides a hand up Arin’s shirt and caresses the soft pudge of his belly. “I don’t know shit about how to set a broken bone. And I’m not carrying you back down to the basement. If you couldn’t walk I’d just have to give you a push, let gravity take care of it for me.” 

Arin closes his eyes as the boss leans in and mouths at the back of his neck. It feels disgusting - he can smell the man’s sour breath, feel the spittle dripping down his collar. He shudders.

“You taste like sweat,” the boss says. “And you’re starting to smell pretty ripe.”

 _You don’t smell like flowers yourself, scumbag, and you’re the one that has access to a shower_. But Arin says nothing. He focuses on breathing in and out, slowly, trying to keep his mind carefully blank so he won’t think about Suzy, barely twenty feet away, sitting beside the big man in that god-awful see-through nightie and underwear.

“I don’t want to fuck your nasty unwashed ass again,” the boss continues, like that was a normal thing to say. “So how about we get these clothes off you and get you in the shower? Turn the water nice and hot, wash your hair…”

“I - ” Arin’s throat gets tight. There’s surely some sort of trick here. After all the filthy things the boss had threatened him with, all the violence and hate, he’s going to let Arin have a nice shower? He had expected to be thrown onto the bed the second he stepped in here and fucked into the mattress.

“You what? You don’t want to? Would you rather be taken back downstairs and hosed off like a dog?” The boss doesn’t wait for a reply. “Get your clothes off and get in the bathroom. If you don’t cooperate I’ll fill the tub up with the water all the way on hot, and hold you under.”

Out of all the things he’d been threatened with, drowning in a bathtub would certainly be a surprising way to go. Arin is suddenly struck with the urge to laugh hysterically, laugh until he fucking sobbed. His lips twist up and he has to force back the giggles. 

The boss doesn’t like it. “You think I’m fucking joking?” 

Arin does laugh then. He can’t fucking help it. He knows the boss isn’t joking and that’s the point. This was Arin’s life now and the only way out was death.

The boss seizes Arin by the throat. Arin’s eyes widen as his fingers tighten, squeezing tight. The laughter dies completely.

“Our tap water gets to about a hundred-thirty-five degrees,” the boss says as he squeezes until Arin can’t breathe. “You know what that’ll do to you if I hold you under for even just thirty seconds?”

Arin shakes his head desperately, fighting the urge to claw at the boss’s hands.

“You wanna find out?”

The boss’s hands release. Arin stumbles forward and his foot smashes into one of the metal supports of the bed. He goes down, eyes watering with pain, and catches himself on his hands and knees. “No,” he manages to say. “Please, don’t burn me. I - ”

“Get up. You look pathetic. _Get the fuck up_ , Arin.”

The pain in his foot fades fast, but Arin’s fear makes him weak. It takes him longer than it should to get up and on his feet. He sways dizzily but catches himself.

“Now take your fucking clothes off.”

Arin doesn’t hesitate. The boss has seen him naked already. He’s seen him naked with his mouth full of dick, heard him begging for his friends’ lives. This is nothing. It won’t break him.

His shirt falls to the floor. The boss’s sweaty palms are on him right away, petting at his bare back. Arin grits his teeth and unbuttons his pants. In a few seconds he’s naked, and though his clothes are somewhat clean, he does smell like sweat and filth. His scalp is itchy with grease, his hair lying slick and flat to his head. 

“Shower’s in there,” the boss says unnecessarily, slapping Arin’s ass. “You can use the shampoo and the soap in the dish.”

Still vaguely suspicious of the boss’s intent, Arin goes into the en-suite bathroom. It’s dingy and ugly, with a seventies earth-tone color scheme, but the tub seems clean. There’s a mirror over the sink. Arin suddenly realizes that he hasn’t seen himself in a long time. Not that he wants to. He can imagine how horrible he looks. Before the boss can give him a hard prompt, he steps into the tub and starts to pull the curtain closed behind him.

The boss seizes his arm. “Ah-ah, I don’t think so,” he admonishes, like he’s reprimanding a toddler. “I want to watch you. You can wipe down any water that sprays out on the floor when you’re done.”

Well, hell, still not a big deal. Arin lets go of the curtain and reaches to turn on the faucet. The water comes out clear and warm, but when it rushes around Arin’s feet it quickly turns a dingy grey-brown before swirling down the drain.

“Filthy slut,” the boss observes, seating himself on the counter. “That’s fucking gross.”

Arin pulls the lever to turn on the shower. To his shame, he actually groans in pleasure when the warm water sluices over his head and down his tense, bruised body. He closes his eyes and turns his face up into the spray, and he tries to pretend for one minute at least that he’s at home, in his own familiar bathroom, taking a shower after a long day’s work, with dinner and quiet time with Suzy to look forward to.

“Does that feel good?” the boss asks, shattering the fantasy,

Arin starts and opens his eyes. The water dripping from him is even greyer than before. A cut on the back of his arm stings like crazy. He thinks of Dan, having those deep cuts so callously rinsed out, and the pain he must have gone through. 

“Yeah,” he says hoarsely.

“Nice and hot?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve got a little problem, though,” the boss smirks. “I have to piss, but if I flush, the shower turns boiling hot.”

And there it was - of course this was no innocuous shower. Arin winces at the thought of being scalded. He’d probably be ordered to stand still as long as he could under the hot spray as the boss flushed over and over again just to torment him.

But he’s wrong.

“But maybe I don’t have to flush. Maybe I don’t have to use the toilet at all.”

Dread coils icy fingers around Arin’s belly when the implications of that set in. He can’t even open his mouth to protest or beg or dully accept. 

“I think I found the answer to this little puzzle. You’re already my slave, Arin. Why don’t you be my toilet, too?”

“What…” Arin tries, hoping to God he was wrong.

The boss is taking out his half-hard dick. Arin cringes at the sight, hating how vividly he can remember how it tastes, how it feels inside his ass.

“Get on your knees and open your mouth.” 

_No big deal, you can just rinse your mouth out when he’s done. It’s no big deal. Remember the people who’ve died, remember Dan getting cut with the knife…_

The tub is hard on Arin’s knees. The water is misting up and into his eyes, so he closes them. He opens his mouth as ordered.

“Tilt your head back, open wider. Like a nice little toilet bowl. Here, I’ll help you.”

The boss steps up next to the tub and grabs Arin’s wet hair. Arin grunts in pain as his head is yanked backward. Almost immediately, water begins flowing into his nose and open mouth. Panic sets in. He can’t move, can’t stop it. His body reacts instinctively to the threat of drowning and tries to struggle. Through sheer force of will, Arin makes himself stay still. The only way to not drown is to hold his breath. He can do that. It’s easy. He can…

Maybe the boss realizes what’s happening, or maybe he just figures it’ll be funny to make Arin choose between swallowing or drowning; either way, he moves his hand from Arin’s hair to his nose. He pinches it shut, providing Arin some relief from the feeling of being practically waterboarded, then says, “Ready for it? Yeah? Good boy.”

It’s not as bad as Arin was expecting. His nose being held stops him from getting a lot of the pungent flavour. His tongue registers salt and slight bitterness, and he gags once, more from the knowledge that it was piss in his fucking mouth than the taste itself. It fills his mouth and starts to spill out the sides, running down his body to mix with the water of the shower. The boss groans in delight and relief. There’s so much of it, fuck, and Arin is starting to really need oxygen, and still it keeps coming, and coming -

Just when he starts to feel dizzy, the flow of urine peters out and dies. 

The boss clamps his other hand over Arin’s mouth and says, “Swallow.”

What the fuck else can he do? Arin swallows twice to get it all down and prays it won’t come back up. The boss releases him and his eyes fly open as he gasps, bending forward to get out of the water, inhaling a lungful of sweet, thick foggy air. Almost immediately he starts to gag and cough. He can smell the piss on him, taste it in his mouth and throat.

The boss is grinning down at him. “How’s that taste?”

Arin coughs again and bends forward to let the water dripping from his brows accumulate in his mouth, rinsing it subtly so as not to anger the boss. “S-salty.”

“That was fucking hot. I’ve never done that with anyone before. But fuck, you just took it, didn’t even complain…and you look so good, so fuckin’…like a goddamn sex doll, the ones with those stupid fat open mouths…”

Arin wonders if he’s allowed to stand back up and finish his shower. His knees are aching, and he feels even filthier than he did before.

“Bet you want that taste out of your mouth, huh?”

There’s mouthwash on the counter. Arin looks at it hopefully. “Yes?”

“I’ll help.” The boss grabs Arin’s hair again and picks up a smooth white bar of soap from the little tray on the edge of the bathtub. He rubs it over Arin’s closed mouth and chin, then says, “Open your mouth, stupid.”

Arin does, and immediately gets a mouthful of soap. He wrinkles up his nose at the overpowering taste, but it’s not hard to hold still. Soap is better than piss…even when water sprays into his mouth, and the boss keeps thrusting the bar in and out, working up a lather that fills Arin’s mouth and sends bubbles tricking down his throat, which burn and leave an intense perfumed aftertaste. He chokes, tries to spit. He has to struggle to maneuver his jaw in a way that doesn’t let the bar of soap ram into his teeth, where it sticks and leaves chunks trapped in his mouth.

“Nice and clean, you like that?” The boss pulls the soap out of Arin’s mouth and slaps it wetly against his cheek. The loud sound makes him laugh. “That was fun. We’ll have to remember that one. Suzy’s got a filthy little mouth on her, maybe we can wash her mouth out if she curses at us again.”

Arin coughs and hacks uncontrollably. He feels like crying, but it’s stupid, he’s been through worse than this. Having some nasty things in his mouth isn’t torture. It’s nothing, he tries to tell himself. The threat to Suzy is just to torment him, and he won’t respond, won’t let the boss see how much it affects him. His lip trembles and he lets out a sob that’s swallowed by the sound of water rushing all around him.

But it’s not just the acts themselves that are making him feel so fucking shaky and scared. It’s the uncertainty that’s killing him. He doesn’t know what to expect next - he could be burned, cut, disfigured, choked, maybe killed, or he could be allowed to stand up and finish his shower. It was like when they brought him and Dan the PB&J sandwiches. Arin half-expected it to be drugged, or filled with something nasty like maggots, and he was so suspicious that eating it was almost unpleasant. Every move he makes feels so final. He’s afraid to disobey. Afraid for his loved ones, for himself. 

Arin glances at the boss. He’s leaning against the counter again and his dick is still hanging out of his pants. It’s hardening rapidly as the boss palms at it, slow and unhurried.

“Stop staring at me and finish up in there,” his captor breathes. “You can play with this big dick soon, don’t you worry. I’ve been saving up a nice big load of cum for you.”

That doesn’t really help the vague nausea that the lingering taste of soap is causing. Arin tunes the boss’s words out and focuses on his hair. Shampooing feels fucking good. There’s no way around that. Arin scrubs his scalp firmly, grateful to be clean. The conditioner is a good brand and his wet hair turns to silk between his fingers as he massages it in. The soap bar has a few nicks in it from being slammed into Arin’s teeth and he can feel the little dents against his skin as he rubs it over his body, under his arms, over his soft dick. He can sense the boss’s eyes on him as he cleans that part of himself, but there’s nothing he can do about that. 

Eventually the water at his feet is running clear and Arin’s skin is getting itchy from the hot water. He still hasn’t washed one place, but -

“Turn around,” the boss orders suddenly. “Face the wall. Spread your ass. I told you I wanted it nice and clean for me.”

Arin turns and edges his thighs apart until he can feel his cheeks part enough to expose his hole. 

“I said _spread it_. With your hands. Don’t let go until I tell you.”

Arin’s stomach drops, but he obeys. He reaches around his hips and gets a good grip on each ample cheek, pulling them apart as far as he can. The position forces him to lean forward slightly to keep from overbalancing. With his ass on display, Arin’s knees tremble, but he keeps the position.

Arin is expecting it, but he still jumps when the boss touches his hole. It’s such an intimate place, a place even Suzy only touched once in a long while. 

“Still nice and tight back here. Or are you tensing up?”

“I - I might be. I don’t…” Arin finds it hard to speak when there’s a finger tracing circles around his asshole. He remembers the sharp pain when the boss had raped him the first time and his instinct is to clench harder in fear. 

“It’s okay if you are,” the boss croons, his voice dropping in volume. “Keep those muscles nice and strong so you can clench that ass around my dick when I fuck you.” 

The fingers are taken away, and then something else touches his ass. It’s wet and slippery - Arin tenses up harder - but then he realizes that it’s just the bar of soap. Just the soap, okay, fuck. This was fine, this was…

“Yeah,” the boss groans. “I’m gonna clean this nasty cumhole for you. Hold still and keep that ass spread, honey.”

He uses the blunt end of the bar to work up a lather, and then uses his hand to rub it in, taking the chance to grope around and feel Arin’s balls, his soft dick, his inner thighs. 

“Nice big thighs,” he comments, grabbing one and jiggling it. “I could probably just stick my dick between these and get myself off. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck your thighs, fuck your tits, squirt all over your face and leave you like that…bring you back downstairs and have Dan lick you clean…”

But he grows bored with Arin’s legs, and his hand strays back to his ass. Arin’s hole is starting to feel a little raw, and the soap stings a little when a finger barely dips inside the tight ring of muscle. 

Arin groans out loud. He’s still a little sore inside.

“Oh, yeah, that feel good? Want me to finger you, baby? You’re gonna have to wait a little while longer. I want this hole clean as a whistle. I can put something else in you instead, but I don’t know if you’re gonna like it very much.”

The bar of soap presses against his hole…and keeps pushing, harder and harder. It’s a blunted oval shape, with its edges dulled by use. With its slightly tapered end and water-slick surface, it’s only a matter of time before it slides inside Arin’s ass. It’s fucking wide in the centre, wider than the boss’s dick, and more rigid to boot. The boss keeps applying more and more pressure. Arin’s eyes bulge as his body tries to accommodate the unusual object. 

“God,” he chokes. The pressure doesn’t ease. Arin rises up on his toes, trying to get away from it. “Oh, fuck, fuck, please - ”

“Please what?”

“Take it out, fuck, please!” Arin half screams. It hurts to tense and he can’t help it. It _stings_ , irritating his insides, burning and cramping worse and worse by the second.

“Don’t squirm. If I let go and lose it in your ass, it’s gonna be pretty fucking uncomfortable for you and hilarious for me.” The boss laughs heartily. “I’ll send you back downstairs with your ass pumped full of water and tie you up on all fours, make you blow bubbles to entertain Danny. And don’t think it’ll stop me from fucking you.”

Arin wouldn’t have thought that this would be so fucking degrading. He would have thought that nothing could be just as bad as the actual rape he’d endured. But this - to have his hole scrubbed with a bar of soap and then fucked with it - might just be worse. His eyes tear up with the pain and he groans, fingers shaking as he tries to hold his grip on his ass.

The boss laughs again and starts to pump it in and out. “This is fun,” he says brightly. “And you’re just taking it for me so good. How does it feel?”

“Big,” Arin croaks thickly. It’s not getting better, he‘s not adjusting. “Too big.”

“You like it?”

“N-no.”

“Aw, baby, that’s too bad. But don’t worry, I’m almost done. Then it’ll be time for step two.”

“Step two?”

“You’ve never cleaned out your ass? I thought you loved fingering yourself. You messy little slut. Step two is squirting some water up there, rinse you right out.”

The boss thrusts the bar of soap in and out a few more times, until Arin feels like his asshole is going to tear open. He grunts with every thrust, face red with humiliation and his eyes blurry with tears. It’s such a relief when the soap is withdrawn that he whimpers, sagging against the tiled wall. The muscles in his calves are cramped from standing on his toes.

“So open for me,” the boss says, touching Arin’s hole with his fingers. “Look, you’re gaping already. Hungry little hole.”

Arin can feel the difference, feel how his muscles have gone softer. _At least it’ll make it less painful later_ , he tells himself.

“Keep your ass spread,” the boss tells him, smacking his thigh. “I’ll be right back.”

Arin hears him rooting around in the cupboard beneath the sink and fear floods him. “What are you - ”

“I told you already. Don’t ask stupid questions.” The boss shows Arin a little squeezable plastic bottle with a long red nozzle tip. “It’s no big deal. See how small this is? You won’t even feel it.”

He’s right. Arin doesn’t really register the feeling of the nozzle slipping in, but he sure as fuck feels the rush of water deep inside him when the boss squeezes the bottle. Arin grits his teeth as the soapy water fills him up, making his abdomen feel achy and crampy, but he holds his tongue.

“What a good boy,” the boss murmurs. “When you feel the need to go, just step out of the shower and sit on the toilet. I’ll leave you alone for that part. Get it all out, then get back in the shower and soap up your ass again. I’ll squirt one more bottle full up there and you can just let that one out in the shower.”

There’s no waiting involved. Arin has enough time to say, “I - think I have to - ” and then the boss gets up casually, dick still hanging out, and walks back into his bedroom. Arin, practically ready to burst, lunges out of the shower and experiences a new humiliation as he lets go, the boss not ten feet away. Arin just grips the counter to keep his balance and lets himself cry silently.

The rest of Arin’s shower is no less degrading. But at least it’s over fairly quickly. Arin towels off, and then, all dignity gone, limps back into the bedroom, naked. There’s no need for the boss to tell him to get on the bed. He doesn’t even flinch when the boss clamps a cuff around his ankle, chaining him to the bed post. There’s enough give to the chain to let him reach the toilet. How long does the boss want to keep him here? 

“Get comfy, Arin. You’re gonna be here a while.”

Arin lays on his back and stares up at the smoke-stained plaster ceiling. He can hear rustling as the boss gets his clothes off, and then the bed dips as he sits on the bed, too. 

The boss chuckles. “It’s so nice to have you in my bed like this. You’re so _docile_ now. Amazing what a few days can do. Remember how much you fought the day we took you? And your wife, bless her, trying to punch and kick and bite…poor little thing fought us so hard. And the first night we had her upstairs, she was like a wildcat. Screaming and kicking the walls.”

Arin counts the number of yellow stains on the ceiling to distract himself, but a single tear drips from his eye nonetheless. _My fault. All my fault._

“But now look at the two of you. She’s a precious, quiet little doll…my friend likes to dress her up, as you saw…and you, you’re just a perfect fucktoy. A warm, wet mouth and a cute pink, clean asshole, both for me to play with however I choose.” He snaps his fingers. “Open your legs.”

Arin, blinking back another round of tears, obeys.

“Good,” the boss murmurs, “good.” He leans down and kisses Arin’s neck. “And now you smell pretty, too. Perfect.”

The kisses continue, travelling down Arin’s neck to his chest. The boss laves his tongue over Arin’s nipple and flicks it back and forth until it hardens, then does the same to the other nipple. Arin hates the weird little jolts of pleasure that it brings. He hates that anything the boss does could make him feel good. 

“Sensitive nipples,” the boss observes, blowing cool air over one of the hardened buds to make it tighten even further. He closes his fingers around it and pinches, harder, harder, until Arin can’t help but jerk and grunt. The boss just laughs, and his hands trail down further. They stop when they get to the top of Arin’s pubic hair.

“Think you can get this hard for me?”

“I…don’t think so.”

“What if you played with yourself for a while?” The boss runs his fingers over Arin’s flaccid shaft. He cups Arin’s balls, rolling them in his palm. “I could help you. Slide my fingers in your hole, rub your prostate as you touch your dick. What do you say?”

When Arin doesn’t move or speak, the boss smacks his thigh. “Touch yourself, Arin. Do it now.”

“Okay.” Fuck. Arin shifts and reaches down, taking his lifeless dick in his own hand. He closes his eyes and moves his hand up and down the soft giving flesh, trying desperately to conjure up a fantasy in his head that’ll get him going. He doesn’t want to disappoint the boss and face some sort of nasty punishment. 

“Yeah, there you go. That’s it, Arin.”

Arin hears a snap, then the wet sound of liquid squirting into a palm. Cold slick fingers dip between his cheeks, touching his tender hole gently. God, he’s already so sore back there. It’s going to hurt so much when he gets fucked…

 _Don’t think about that._ Arin tries to relax, to focus on the sensations themselves and not the situation he’s in. He doesn’t seem to be making any progress. His cock isn’t responding at all.

Two fingers suddenly push inside him. Arin’s hips jerk up and he groans.

“Yeah? You like that, huh?” The boss pumps his hand in and out, then curls his fingers. Arin can feel them moving inside of him, feel the texture of the boss’s knuckles, the fingertips pressing against his soft inner walls. 

“Work with me,” the boss encourages. “Move your hips, help me find your special spot.”

Arin angles himself further back and the fingers push deeper. With a tilt of his pelvis Arin nudges the fingers further inside of himself. It’s too much - two fingers are _thick_ , and he’s not ready for it - and he quickly arches back to get away.

“Do that again,” the boss orders. His eyes are bright. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, yeah, that’s fucking hot.”

Arin squeezes his eyes shut and repeats the motion. The boss twists his hand as he does, and the fingers push in deep, hurting, searching - but then there’s a jolt inside of him and a wave of sensation overtakes the pain. He gasps out loud.

“Oh, did I find it? Right here?” 

Arin bites his lip to stifle a moan as the boss digs his fingertips too hard into his sensitive prostate, bringing sensation so intense it was almost like pain. “T-too hard, don’t - ”

“Like this?” The boss uncurls his hand and lets the fingers in him straighten out. They glide up alongside Arin’s prostate without hitting it dead on, and now the sensation tilts toward pleasure. The boss notices and grins, giving his hand little thrusts, knuckles dragging at Arin’s rim.

“Oh, fuck!” Arin cries out as a particularly strong wave of pleasure hits him. He shudders and squeezes himself involuntarily. “Fuck,” he groans again as he feels his dick twitch to life.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. Fuck. You fuckin’ love it, yeah, you dirty slut. Keep that hand moving. Keep fucking jerking yourself off.”

Arin sobs as his dick grows enough to stand upright. The boss is pistoning his hand so fast, and there’s no pain, only tight little waves of intense pressure and pleasure. This is sick, this is so fucking wrong - and yet he’s growing even harder as he strokes himself with a trembling hand. _You’re filthy. Look at you, you’re so fucking disgusting. Feeling good from some dirt bag’s fingers up your ass._

A sudden shock of pain zings across his chest, sharp and bright. Arin gives a short, aborted yell, thinking at first of another needle - but then the pain spreads, softens, and he looks down to see a splash of white goop near his nipple. He smells the burning candle wick and watches the goop harden on his skin before he looks up to see the boss laughing, a lit tapered candle in his hand. The next drop burns hotter, and Arin shivers, twisting away from it - but again, it’s such a short pain, he almost doesn’t mind it.

The boss makes a trail of wax toward Arin’s nipple. His movements are jerky from the force of his other hand, still pumping fingers in Arin’s hole. Arin watches the flame sputter and dance, coming closer to his face, his hair. The boss is barely watching where it’s going, too busy looking between Arin’s legs. Arin whimpers and tilts his chin all the way back.   
“Keep touching your dick,” the boss breathes, and this time he deliberately thrusts the candle at Arin’s face. Droplets burn hot up Arin’s neck, one errant smear hitting him on the chin. It’s a lot fucking hotter on the sensitive skin on his face.

Arin hadn’t realized his own hand had slowed. He renews his half-hearted jacking, ashamed to feel that he hasn’t lost his arousal. The next splatter of hot wax lands squarely on his nipple and his whole body bucks involuntarily, pain-pain- _pleasure_ -pain. The movement makes the boss’s fingers push deeper, bony knuckles rubbing up hard against Arin’s prostate. The sensation crashes through him, taking his breath away. Arin gasps and lets it out with a deep, musical moan.

“Oh, fuck,” the boss gasps too, actually trembling. His hand falters, fingers wiggling more gently. “So hot, Arin, that sounded so good. Do it again. Do it.” 

Arin feels him using the pads of his fingers to massage little circles inside him. When they zero in on his prostate, it’s like fucking electricity. Arin squeezes his dick, jerking faster, hot wax on his stomach now, moving up, up, and oh _fuck_ his other nipple - 

“ _Oh _,” he groans, his face screwing up. Sweat rolls down his temples. “Ah - ah - f-fuck…”__

__“Kinky little shit. You like the wax, huh?” The boss leans back and pushes Arin’s legs open wider. Arin opens his eyes and watches the candle tilt, aiming at his inner thighs. He hisses through his teeth at the pain and squirms weakly. The hardened wax all over his chest looks too much like cum. Arin suddenly pictures himself, covered in white smears, his face red with humiliation and his dick red with arousal, his legs spread and held wide, ass gaping from being fucked and fingered. And _still_ , the sensation of that bundle of nerves inside of him is bringing more pleasure than pain._ _

__“You look so good,” the boss pants. He blows out the candle and flicks the last of the hot wax on Arin’s stomach._ _

__“Can you cum, Arin?”_ _

__For all the pleasure, Arin doesn’t think so. “No,” he gasps, cringing in anticipation of a slap for his honesty. “I - I’ll try, but I don’t - ”_ _

__“That’s fine. You’ve done good.” The boss is panting, his eyes wild. “What hole do you want it in? I’m gonna fuckin’ burst, I swear.”_ _

__Arin isn’t thinking. He’s so out of his mind that he forgets the futility of struggling. There’s so much going on that he feels short of breath. He needs a break. “Wait,” he gasps out. “Wait, please. Please just - give me a break, let me - ”_ _

__“What the fuck is this? You’re gonna be a little cock tease? Let me play with your hole and then get all shy?”_ _

__“I c-can’t take this any more. Please…I just need a breather, I…”_ _

__“Beg for my dick, whore. Beg for it like you said you would. Remember that? You said you were gonna sit on my dick and ride me good.”_ _

__Arin opens his mouth, but nothing comes out._ _

__“Alright,” the boss says in a more dangerous voice, “then I’ll stick it in your mouth and you can suck it until you decide to make good on your promises.”_ _

__Arin is so dizzy and so close to puking from pure sensation overload that even the thought of a cock in his mouth makes him gag wetly. “No,” he groans. “I can’t - ”_ _

__“What was that?”_ _

__“I said no, okay, I don’t think I can - ”_ _

__The boss yanks his fingers out of Arin’s ass and uses that hand to smack him across the face. “So now you don’t want my dick, is that right?”_ _

__Arin doesn’t know how to answer, doesn’t know what the boss wants to hear. Honesty doesn’t always work. He looks away from the boss, down at himself. His skin is reddening around the splotches of wax and the faint burns are starting to itch. Between his legs, his dick is finally - mercifully - softening, his fear taking over._ _

__“Stupid whore,” the boss mutters._ _

__Arin cringes with disgust when the fingers that had been in his asshole touch his mouth._ _

__“And what’s this? You don’t like the taste of your own ass, either?” The boss grabs Arin’s jaw and squeezes until his mouth opens, then forces his two fingers inside. “Aw, that’s too bad, honey. Suck.”_ _

__Arin wrinkles his nose, but closes his lips around the digits. To his relief, it’s not that bad - it just tastes a little like chemical lube, a little like soap. Clumsily, Arin tongues the underside of the fingers until the boss is satisfied and pulls them out of his mouth._ _

__“Good. Good sluts clean up their messes. Now, since you don’t want my dick in your ass, I’m gonna have to figure out what I can shove up there instead.”_ _

__Arin remembers the bar of soap and whimpers. “Don’t,” he begs. “I - I’ll do it, I’ll beg, I’ll - ”_ _

__“Keep your legs open.” The boss gets up and strides to a closet. Arin can hear him rummaging, searching for something that he can fit up Arin’s ass. “If I can’t find anything, I’ll use my fist.”_ _

__“No,” Arin cries out, horrified at that concept. “Oh, God, please!”_ _

__“Don’t worry. I think I found what I need.”_ _

__Arin cranes his neck to look, terror filling every inch of his body and making him sweat like crazy. Whatever it is, the boss is holding it behind his back, grinning like a shark._ _

__“Close your eyes.”_ _

__“What is it?”_ _

__“Close your eyes or I’ll bash your fuckin’ head in!” the boss screams in his face. “I’m getting real fucking sick of you, Arin. You’ve been so good for so long, you don’t wanna fuck things up for yourself now, do you?”_ _

__“No,” Arin whispers, and closes his eyes so tight his whole face scrunches up._ _

__“Good,” the boss says, suddenly calmer, like flipping a switch. “Good. Now, we’re going to play a guessing game. It’ll be lots of fun. If you can tell me what it is with three tries, I won’t fuck you with it. And if you open your eyes, I’ll go get Suzy and fuck her with it first. Sound good?”_ _

__“I - ”_ _

__The boss slaps him. “Say ‘yes, sir’.”_ _

__“Yes, sir.”_ _

__“Good. Now let me show you the first clue.”_ _

__Something cold and metallic presses against Arin’s cheek. He inhales and gets the salty scent of old, worn metal. It’s slightly curved, slightly sharp but very worn, and it doesn’t feel like anything even vaguely phallic enough to go in his ass._ _

__“Oh, my God,” he gasps._ _

__“Guess.”_ _

__“I…it’s…a gun?”_ _

__“Good guess. That would be funny, wouldn’t it? But no, you’re wrong. Here’s the second clue.”_ _

__The object is turned around. Arin feels the other side of it. It feels like - smooth plastic? Polished wood? It rubs against his face, and has no smell that Arin can distinguish._ _

__“Guess.”_ _

__Arin has no fucking idea. What the fuck was metal on one end and wooden on the other? “A - a knife?” _Please, God no.__ _

__“That was pretty stupid. One more try. This time it’s a verbal hint. It’s a tool.”_ _

__Arin’s stomach flips. “Screwdriver?” he asks tentatively._ _

__“Aw, good try. You can open your eyes now.”_ _

__Arin does, and almost screams when he sees what the boss is holding. It’s a hammer - a big claw hammer - and the handle is as wide as the bar of soap had been, or maybe even wider. But it’s not a slick bar of soap and the end isn’t tapered at all._ _

__“Yeah, it’s gonna hurt pretty bad,” the boss observes. “But you brought this on yourself, Arin. Bet you’re wishing you had just been a good boy and begged for this dick.” The boss pours a liberal amount of lube on the hilt of the hammer, still smirking._ _

__“Please,” Arin gasps, trying to redeem himself “please don’t do this to me, please, I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll make myself cum even. I’ll - ”_ _

__“Too late, Arin. Turn over on your stomach and take it or else I’m doing it to Suzy like I told you.”_ _

__Arin rolls over, crying again, hating himself and his stupid fucking decisions. He’s shaking, almost sick with terror. He tries to brace himself for the pain, but he can hardly even imagine how bad it’s going to be._ _

__When the hilt presses against his hole, Arin’s stomach sinks. But then it just - stays there, pushing fruitlessly. The boss wriggles it back and forth, but to no avail. Arin is almost relieved. It’s too big. Simply too fucking big to ever fit. There’s no way - no physical way. Something that big would have to be tapered, slide in slowly…_ _

__But the boss keeps pushing, and pushing. The pressure begins to ache. Arin winces, but still feels safe. His body just won’t let it happen. It was like trying to fit a finger into a fucking pop can tab._ _

__“Bear down on it,” the boss tells him. “It’ll still hurt a bit but it reduces the chance of tearing your asshole wide open if I just jam it in there.”_ _

__“It won’t fit,” Arin’s voice is raspy and small._ _

__“Oh, yes it will.” The pressure increases further. The boss starts to wiggle the hammer back and forth again, more gently. “Bear down, like you’re trying to push something out. Do it now. Trust me.”_ _

__“It’s not going - ”_ _

__“Arin, one more fucking word out of you, and I’ll use this hammer to break Dan’s knee caps. I’ve been too nice to you and not delivering on my threats. I’ve learned my lesson now. I can and will torture Dan in worse ways than you can imagine - I can hurt him and Suzy at the same time - I can cut out their tongues, pull their fucking fingernails out - if you don’t believe me we can bring Suzy in here and start right now - ”_ _

__“Okay, okay,” Arin sobs. “I’m doing it, okay, I will, I swear.” He should have remembered it was no good to resist. Terrified, he bears down, and the boss keeps wriggling, and suddenly -_ _

__A sharp, awful, agonizing pain shoots through him as the thick hilt breaches his hole. Arin screams, sharp and shrill. He screams until he’s out of breath and then he inhales and screams again._ _

__“Stop! Stop, please!”_ _

__“See, I told you it would fit,” the boss chuckles. He gives another wiggle, and Arin claws at the sheets. The pain is horrendous, overwhelming, indescribable. Another scream tears from his throat as it slides in deeper, _deeper_ , oh, god, when would it stop?_ _

__“There you go,” the boss encourages as Arin buries his face in the pillow to muffle his cries. “Bite the pillow like a good boy, you got it. I’m gonna fuck you good and deep with this thing.”_ _

__The boss is true to his word. He starts to push the hammer in and out, with obvious effort. Arin feels like he’s being fucking split in half. It’s so deep in him that he can feel the pain almost all the way up to his stomach. This made the soap feel like a finger - this made being fucked with a cock feel like nothing. Arin sobs and cries and screams, wondering if he’s bleeding inside, if this fucking thing is going to puncture his colon and kill him._ _

__As he keeps going, the resistance fades and the pain subsides - slightly. The boss is able to thrust the hammer more smoothly. He gives it a twist, and Arin groans._ _

__“You like this?”_ _

__“No!”_ _

__“Oh? So what would you like me to fuck you with instead?”_ _

__“Y-your cock?”_ _

__“Is that a question?” The boss picks up the pace, driving the hammer deeper than ever before._ _

__“Please!” Arin screams._ _

__“Please what!”_ _

__“Please I want your cock, please, I’m begging you, put your dick in me instead!”_ _

__“Are you sure?”_ _

__“Yes, fuck, yes!” Arin is full-on ugly sobbing now. “I want it, I want your cock, okay, please fuck me with your cock!”_ _

__“Oh, that’s nice,” the boss says with satisfaction. “I like hearing that.”_ _

__The hammer starts to withdraw. Arin screams again as it slides out of him, inch by inch, taking forever. When it finally pops out with a wet squelch, Arin moans in sheer relief._ _

__“Jesus,” the boss murmurs. “Arin, look how deep you took this thing. Turn over and open your eyes.”_ _

__Arin turns over, his body screaming in protest. He looks at the hammer. The handle is shiny with lube almost up to the head - at least nine inches. There’s some blood near the end, bright red and slimy with lube._ _

__“That’s how much your slutty ass took. Can you believe that?”_ _

__Arin shakes his head, too far gone for words._ _

__“I should take a picture. We can show Dan when we take you back.”_ _

__Arin whimpers. The boss laughs and drops the hammer to the floor with a loud clang._ _

__“Get on your hands and knees for me, baby. I’d love you to ride my dick, but I doubt you could sit up straight right now. I’m gonna take you from behind instead.”_ _

__It’s a struggle to move. Arin hurts so bad he almost wishes he could just pass out. He manages to get his knees under him, but he can’t seem to lift his upper body with his arms._ _

__The boss doesn’t seem to mind. He mounts Arin easily, his hard cock slipping between Arin’s cheeks and rubbing against his sore hole. Arin gives a low moan of pain and braces himself. Not a second later, the boss sinks his cock to the hilt without any resistance at all. It makes him laugh. “You’re so loose, holy shit.”_ _

__Arin feels sick, thinking whether his ass will ever be the same again, whether the boss will get tired of his ruined hole and then kill him and move onto Dan and Suzy. His eyes ache as he tries to cry. His eyes have run out of tears._ _

__“Squeeze that ass, Arin.”_ _

__Arin tries - he does - but it still doesn’t feel tight at all. The boss moans anyway and leans forward, hands on Arin’s sides._ _

__“Good boy. Good slut. Don’t move, just let me…”_ _

__Arin can barely manage to let out a quavering moan as he starts getting fucked, so rough that the whole bed rocks back and forth. Lube trickles out of his hole and down his balls, mingling with sweat. The boss’s hands slip on his sides and he digs in with his fingernails._ _

__“Ow…I…ah…Please…”_ _

__“Take it,” the boss growls. “Fuckin’, take my big dick in your loose, stretched ass. Gonna fill you up with my cum, fill your whore ass. You want that? Tell me you want it.”_ _

__“P-please…I…please c-cum in my ass. I want it. I…oh, fuck, fuck, ow, please not so rough - ”_ _

__The boss is slamming his hips into Arin hard enough to bruise. The sound of their bodies colliding is horribly loud. Arin holds onto the pillows with white knuckles, listening to the awful wailing chorus of the bedsprings squealing._ _

__“Come on,” the boss grunts, slapping Arin’s ass, “come on, come on…squeeze that ass, Arin…oh, yeah, you know how to do it…You love it rough, don’t you? You’re so good, my good boy…Tell me you love my big dick.”_ _

__“I love your big dick,” Arin almost shouts._ _

__“Oh, yeah you do. You like my big dick in your ass?”_ _

__“I - like your big dick in my ass!”_ _

__“Fuck. _Fuck_ , Arin. yeah, take my big load, take it - I’m gonna - ”_ _

__Arin squeezes himself around the intrusion as best as he can, though the muscles down there feel permanently damaged. It seems to do the trick and Arin feels the rush of warmth in him when the boss comes, feels the way the boss collapses against him._ _

__“Ah, shit,” he says hoarsely into Arin’s ears. “Fuck, honey, you’re makin’ me feel like I’m twenty again. Oh, my God.” He laughs and gets to his feet. “Excuse me, I’m gonna freshen up. That was - _wow_. You’re a hell of a good fuck, Arin. You did a good job today. Some minor hiccups, but in the end, we got there, didn’t we?”_ _

__Arin lays face-down on the bed, feeling like a worthless cum-rag. Pain throbs though his entire body. He’s covered in sweat, probably stinking again just like before. He’s dizzy with starvation, ears ringing loudly with tinnitus, limbs like soft butter. He cries into his pillow freely, not bothering to hide it._ _

__He almost feels like fainting when the boss sits next to him again._ _

__“It’s okay,” he says soothingly. “I’m gonna clean you up, alright?”_ _

__“Okay,” Arin answers dully. He can feel the warm cloth cleaning up the cum dripping from his ass, wiping down the crusty spit and drool from his chin and face. He doesn’t open his eyes. The boss hums as he works patiently._ _

__“You’re a sleepy sheepy, aren’t you?” the boss murmurs quietly. He kisses Arin’s cheek._ _

___That’s what Dan calls himself_ , Arin thinks with a pang. He keeps his eyes closed and just says, “Yes.”_ _

__“All tuckered out, and it’s only seven o’clock. Poor thing. You wanna get some rest?”_ _

__Was it another test, another lie? “Yes…”_ _

__“You’re a good boy, and you’ve earned it. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in a little while. Your chain is long enough to let you use the bathroom if you need it.” The boss smirks. “You might wanna sit on the toilet and try to squeeze some of that cum out. I shot a lot in you. Whatever mess you leave on the sheets, you’re licking up.”_ _

__And on that note, the boss leaves, closing and locking the door behind him._ _

__Arin, despite the threat, can’t even think of moving. His body is completely and utterly spent. The only small comfort he has is knowing that sleep will be a temporary escape from this hell. If he ever gets there._ _

__His eyes roll to the ceiling and he starts to count the stains again._ _

___One, two, three_ …. Arin was the reason Suzy and Dan are here…… _seven, eight_ … Dan was probably missing him like mad, trying to keep his sanity in the black isolation… _eleven, twelve_ … Maybe Suzy’s alone too, maybe the big man left her alone to sleep, too…fifteen…she’d be in that little nightie, angelic face smooth, snoring very faintly, cute as ever…_ _

__Arin loses track of time._ _

__He lays on the boss’s bed, his ankle bloodied and numb where the too-tight cuff is digging in. He thinks he falls asleep a few times, but his pain keeps bringing him back. He’s mostly in a half-doze, that mysterious land between sleep and consciousness, his bone-deep exhaustion pulling him down as the pain tugs at him, yanking him back up. He can sense hours passing, but can’t tell how much sleep he’s actually gotten. The angle of the sun streaming through the blinds changes as it sinks in the sky._ _

__“Arin, wake up.”_ _

__Arin sits bolt upright. “What - who - ”_ _

__“Calm down,” the boss laughs. “It’s just me.”_ _

__Just him - as if that wasn’t terrifying enough. Arin looks at him dully and wonders which hole he’ll want to fuck this time. There’s no more light coming through the window. He’d gotten maybe an hour and a half of unbroken sleep._ _

__The boss is holding a plate of food - steak cut into rough squares and mashed potatoes. Arin looks at it questioning._ _

__“Yes, it’s for you. Are you hungry?’_ _

__Arin’s stomach practically roars in response. He sits up and slowly takes the plate the boss holds out to him. The sight of the steak makes him start to drool. The potatoes look like the dehydrated kind that you mix with milk and microwave, but fuck, it’s good enough for Arin. The boss hands him a plastic fork - maybe he’s scared Arin will try to use a metal one as a weapon - and Arin spears a bite of steak, ready to sail in. But a thought occurs to him._ _

__“Are you…are you going to feed…”_ _

__“We’ll save some for Dan,” the boss promises. “The potatoes, at least. I know he can’t eat red meat. Maybe he should try a couple bites, because there’s no way I’m cooking a whole other meal for him just because his Jew stomach can’t handle real food.”_ _

__“You…” _You can’t let him starve_ , is what Arin is thinking, but he corrects himself. “Please don’t let him go hungry. The potatoes aren’t enough. He…he doesn’t…”_ _

__“He doesn’t have very many pounds to lose, does he? Don’t worry. I think there’s some fruit in the fridge, he can have a little bit of that.”_ _

__Arin was going to say _he doesn’t deserve to suffer more than he already has_ , but he takes the promise of healthy food for Dan and lets it go. He eats with sloppy enthusiasm as the boss watches him patronizingly. It’s so fucking good that he could moan with pleasure. There’s enough food to fill him up and then some. When he’s done, he licks his plate, making the boss laugh._ _

__The boss takes the plate and sets it on his desk. “Now it’s time to go back to your cell,” his captor practically sings. “I’d love to play with you some more, but you’ve been such a good slut for me that my dick is pretty worn out. We’ll have fun another day, okay?”_ _

__“Okay,” Arin says blandly, watching the boss unlock his leg cuff. His leg is red and raw and bloody beneath, but the pain doesn’t really register._ _

__“Poor baby, look at your leg. And yet you didn’t complain at all. Don’t worry. I bet Dan will kiss it better for you.”_ _

__Arin says nothing._ _

__The boss grins. “Maybe I’ll stick around to watch. I think it’s pretty fucking hot when you two kiss. Dan might not do much for me, but he is kind of pretty, in a bony sort of way.” He strokes Arin’s clean hair. “I bet he sounded real cute when he was getting fucked, huh?”_ _

__Arin remembers that night very clearly. Dan crying, shaking on all fours. Dan looking at Arin mutely for help. Dan whispering for Arin to stop screaming because he was scared of being Tased in retribution…_ _

__The boss laughs at him and strokes him again. “Don’t worry, Arin. It could have been worse. You should have seen what that guy did to the last toy he had. I’ve seen some fucked up shit, but damn, it almost made me throw up. You know he likes his knives, yeah, and he loves blood. You saw the way he wanted to cut Dan and lick up the blood. Well, this dumb slut wouldn’t stop screaming and fighting, so he took a knife and shoved it - ”_ _

__There’s a soft knock on the door._ _

__“Come in,” the boss calls._ _

__Arin breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn’t want to hear about people being tortured so horribly that it shocked a sadistic kidnapping rapist._ _

__It’s the big man, of course, and he’s wearing a smug grin when he looks at Arin. “You need me for anything?” he asks the boss._ _

__“Just go down there and check on the other one. Stay with him just in case. I’m bringing Arin down in a minute.”_ _

__“Probably not necessary. Dan’s probably curled up in a ball crying. That one’s too stupid to try anything.”_ _

__“I wouldn’t call it stupid. I’d call it being self-aware. What does he weigh, one-fifty, soaking wet? He knows he can’t do shit.”_ _

__The big man laughs and sidles past them, heading down toward the basement. Arin, too far gone to feel anger for the insults directed at himself, bristles at the way they talk about Dan. Luckily, the boss is too distracted in getting his clothes back on to notice the surliness on Arin’s face._ _

__“You did a good job today, sweetie,” he says to Arin as he zips up his pants. “Keep behaving like that and you’re gonna start to earn privileges. Privileges like pillows, deodorant, maybe a nightlight and some books to keep yourselves busy…a hot breakfast in the morning. You’ve been a very obedient slave, after all.” He reaches out and actually pinches Arin’s cheek. “Such a good cum dump. I was right to choose you. You’ve been a lot more entertaining than my previous toys. Better than I could have ever imagined.”_ _

__“Can I put my clothes back on?” Arin dares to ask._ _

__“If you say _please_ ,” the boss answers playfully. He’s grinning, his eyes sparkling. He’s in a good mood. Arin has to remember that. Keeping the boss happy means survival. _ _

__“May I please put my clothes back on?” he tries._ _

__“Good boy. Yes, you can.”_ _

__With his clothes on, Arin feels a little more like himself again, even though his ass is aching and still burning a little from the soap. He can’t wait to see Dan again, to spend the night with his small body cradled in his arms. Dan would ask questions, but respect Arin’s decision not to tell him what happened. He didn’t want Dan worrying about him._ _

__They hear feet pounding, someone running._ _

__The boss tenses and the grin slides off his face. “What…”_ _

__Arin swallows nervously as adrenaline floods his body. The boss glances at him briefly, a frown denting his forehead._ _

__The big man overtakes them in the living room, his usually stoic face panicked. The boss frowns at him. “I thought I told you to - ”_ _

__“He’s gone.”_ _

__“Excuse me?”_ _

__“Dan. He’s gone.”_ _

__Arin’s head fills with noise and his stomach sinks to the floor. Suddenly he wants to vomit and he regrets eating so much._ _

__The boss shoves him to the side and runs down the stairs to the basement door. The big man follows him. Arin follows too, at some distance, afraid he’ll be punished for not staying where he is - but what the fuck does it matter, if Dan’s gone? Arin feels like the life has been sucked out of him._ _

__The men are quiet. Arin watches them examine the basement door from the foot of the stairs._ _

__“He didn’t bust out,” the big man says finally. “The locks were secured. Deadbolt done up tight.”_ _

__The boss’s face is turning red. “He could be hiding, did you check - ”_ _

__“There’s fucking nowhere to hide down there. And the bed - ”_ _

__“What about the fucking bed?”_ _

__“There’s blood…”_ _

__“He still had open cuts. If a bandage fell off - ”_ _

__The big man’s eyes fall somewhere behind Arin. “Boss,” he says quietly. “Look by the door.”_ _

__Arin turns to look, too._ _

__They all see it at the same time. There’s a bright red dollop of blood on the floor near the front door. Arin’s heart freezes solid in his chest. His eyes travel up to the doorknob - and there’s a bloody smear there, too._ _

__“He was fighting,” the big man says. “I think - ”_ _

__“I should have killed him,” the boss says slowly. His hands are shaking. “The fucking bastard. I should have known he’d be back.”_ _

__“He must have gotten a duplicate key made. Somehow…”_ _

__“He had plenty of time when we stopped in town.”_ _

__Arin hadn’t yet formed that link. When he realizes what the men are saying, he feels the urge to vomit again. The horror of the situation renders him unable to move or think properly. Dan is gone - kidnapped from his kidnappers - by an unhinged man, angry over his ousting from this little cult of sadists, obsessed with raping and hurting Dan as much as he could. _He’s fine,_ the black-haired man had said as Dan passed out from shock and blood loss. _Wouldn’t it be a shame to wreck this pretty face? My knives are sharp enough to shave with…__ _

__“No,” he whispers out loud. “This can’t be happening.”_ _

__Neither man seems to hear him._ _

__“Fuck!” The boss turns and punches the wall, hard enough to shake the whole house. “Everything was going so fucking well! That slimy little fucker, I can’t believe I ever trusted him in the first place. He comes with us, thinking he runs this fucking show, going behind my back to fuck that stupid whore - I _told_ him he’d get his chance, that we’d keep Dan for a while, but _no_ , that wasn’t good enough for him. Stupid fucking - ”_ _

__“Let’s think about this logically,” the big man says, rubbing his temples. “He won’t sell us out, boss. He can’t. There’s enough evidence here to put him away just as long as us, and he knows it. He has nothing to gain from ratting on us.”_ _

__“Unless he gets caught trying to transport Dan.”_ _

__“Not very likely. He won’t get far anyway. You know him, he’s a sadistic little shit, with no brains and no patience. He’ll drive a couple miles and then stop to fuck Dan, he can’t help himself, and he’ll probably kill him by accident. He’s smart enough to dump the body in water and run - probably out of the state, maybe out of the country. Anyone finds the body in time to get DNA off it, and it’s just gonna be his own. We didn’t fuck him, boss. There’s no link.”_ _

__“And if they do find the body, and get fingerprints and cum out of it, and catch him, he’ll blab his stupid face off. We left tons of evidence around Arin’s house when we took them, and if they find Dan’s body they’ll probably assume there’s a connection.”_ _

__“They can’t do shit with DNA evidence unless they have us in custody to prove a match.”_ _

__“Yeah, and he can give them our address!”_ _

__“You’re over thinking this. Cops come down on him, he’ll do the smart thing and blow his brains out. Even if he doesn’t, he knows we’ll all likely end up in prison together if he gets us caught. He may be pissed at us, but not enough to subject himself to that kind of hell.”_ _

__The boss purses his lips. “Maybe you’re right,” he says slowly. “Well, I hope he gets a couple good screws in before Dan dies.”_ _

__“Maybe he’ll fuck the corpse. They stay warm for a little while.”_ _

__“Of course he will. He’ll probably keep it until it starts to fall apart, the sick fuck.”_ _

__The big man laughs, and Arin snaps._ _

__He had endured plenty, but this was too fucking much. His best friend is gone, likely being raped violently as they speak, and headed toward a painful bloody death. Arin can’t bear to think about it - how fucking terrified Dan must be, how Dan would know all too well how it was going to end for him. And to hear them laugh about raping his corpse -_ _

__Arin finds a sudden well of strength and whirls around. His arm snaps out and his fist connects with the big man’s face with every ounce of Arin’s muscle behind the blow. He hears a funny crunch, and suddenly there’s blood all down the big man’s front and he’s holding both hands to his face, roaring with anger._ _

__The boss grabs Arin from behind. Arin braces, expecting a punch, but then he feels something cold press into his stomach. He has enough time to register what it is before the electricity slams through him like lightning, the pain an eleven out of ten. Arin drops like a bag of bricks, retching from the intensity of the pain. On the ground, clutching his stomach, the fire touches his bare arm, then his hand in rapid succession._ _

__Arin screams, and screams, and screams again when a foot kicks him so hard in the spine that his vision whites out._ _

__“You stupid cunt. You were doing so well, too. Get up or you’re getting tased again.”_ _

__Arin is assisted, none-too-gently, by the boss grabbing him by the hair and lifting him. He’s sobbing, totally letting go, his mental agony far worse than the torturous physical pain._ _

__“Dan,” he sobs. “Please, you have to, please find him, please go look for him, don’t let him die - ”_ _

__“Shut up, or I’ll kill your wife.”_ _

__“Please…please…please…” Arin feels like he’s unravelling, like he’s forgetting the English language altogether. “Please…no…Suzy…Danny…”_ _

__The big man comes into his line of vision, holding a towel to his broken, bleeding nose._ _

__“You broke my fucking nose, you fat slut. I’m gonna go do the same to your wife so we match.”_ _

__“NO!”_ _

__The big man leans in close to Arin’s ear. “Come to think of it, maybe not. I’ll break something else instead. Maybe her fingers, one by one. And it’ll be your fault, Arin.”_ _

__“Suzy!” Arin screams, writhing in the boss’s grip. “No! Please!”_ _

__“I fucked her little pussy while the boss was fucking you,” the big man hisses, “but it was so loose from me shoving my hand up there that I took my dick out and put it in her ass instead. Pulled out and came all over those three cute little freckles she has, right between her two holes. You know the ones I mean? She shudders and gets goosebumps every time I kiss them.”_ _

__Arin screams until his throat is raw, mind gone, pushed over the edge._ _

__The basement door is thrown open, and the boss and the big man drag Arin to the top of the stairs._ _

__“Try not to land on your neck,” the big man advises, smirking._ _

__The boss gives Arin a hard push on his lower back._ _

__It all happens in slow motion. Arin throws out his arms, but there’s nothing to grab onto. Horrified, he falls. There’s a moment where his feet have left the ground, and he’s floating, falling, terror growing - and then his upper shoulder and arm collide with the hard stairs, the impact flipping him upside down, increasing his legs’ momentum. Then he hits his knee, his elbow, his face, his head, and the pain explodes through him, blurring out the details._ _

__The concrete floor rushes to meet him. It’s too late to try and land on his side or somewhere safe._ _

__Arin’s head smashes into the floor and his teeth slam into his tongue, salty blood in his mouth._ _

__Everything goes black._ _


	7. 7

With no way to count the minutes ticking by, Dan feels like his mind is unravelling as he waits for Arin to return. Every second that he’s gone feels like a lifetime. Dan’s imagination torments him with images of what the boss is doing to Arin, and what Arin will look like if they bring him back.

“ _When_ they bring him back,” Dan whispers out loud, as if that will somehow make it more true. He can’t bear to think about what would happen if Arin were gone for good. What if the boss went too far? What if he just went on torturing Arin until he died? What if Arin fought him, or refused to obey his twisted orders, and in a rage the boss snapped and just - strangled him or stabbed him or -

 _Stop it, stop it, STOP IT,_ Dan screams at himself as tears spring to his eyes. They aren’t going to kill Arin. At least, not yet. Arin would be back. Maybe he’d be hurting a little, but Arin is strong as fuck. He’s not going to be broken easily. 

But the sadism of these men is like nothing Dan had ever seen before. They won’t stop, no matter how much pain Arin might be in, no matter how much Arin screamed or pled or begged. They won’t stop for anything. Dan’s mind goes in circles, thinking about how the big man’s eyes looked so flat and dead, like his soul had been sucked out… the things the boss had said and done to Arin…the people who had been imprisoned here before, and ‘disposed of’ when they were no longer any fun…

It’s frightening to think that people had probably been killed in this very room. Dan shivers. He doesn’t believe in ghosts, but a lingering energy seems more than possible - especially in this surreal darkness, where Dan started to see shadows dance at the edges of his vision if he went too long without blinking. What kind of energy would be trapped here, from a slaughtered captive sex slave? 

The darkness is as smothering as ever. They could have left the lights on for him - but it was just one more way to keep him broken and submissive. Being alone down here in this chamber of torture is terrifying beyond all measure. Every creak and groan, every faint sound from far above, makes Dan’s heart skip a beat. Was that a scream, or just his imagination? He’s huddled in his meagre blanket up to his nose, eyes darting uselessly around. He has to use the bathroom, but doesn’t want to break his neck tripping over his own feet. Dan imagines how the boss would laugh if he came down and saw Dan passed out on the floor from smashing headfirst into the concrete.

The boss’s voice seems to float through the air, slithering into Dan’s ears. _You’re the disposable one…_

Dan feels queasy to think about that. Death doesn’t seem half as scary as knowing that he’d be leaving Arin and Suzy behind - or knowing that if they found his body, his mother or father might have to come identify him, haunting their nightmares for the rest of their lives.

_Stop it. Don’t think about that. We have to have hope. There’s still hope…_

Dan turns onto his side. He gets a faint whiff of Arin’s sweat from the mattress as he moves. For some dumb reason, a memory pops up in his head - him teasing Arin for smelling sweaty on a hot day during recording when the AC had broken. He’d said it during an episode. Arin had been the first to joke about it, of course…but thinking about it now, Dan wishes he could go back in time and take it back. He should have spent his time telling the world what an amazing person Arin was - the story about him offering to help Dan’s band with financial problems was just a random example of Arin’s generosity, borne not out of some smug sense of charity-giving to feel good but because he honestly wanted other people to succeed and find happiness. He had done so much good - he brightened everybody’s life - he always found time in his hectic schedule to listen to Dan whenever he needed an ear, and helped whenever he could. 

Dan owes Arin the world. And he doesn’t want it to be too late to pay back the debt back.

_It’s not too late. It can’t be too late. Please…_

The lights flicker on suddenly. 

Dan shoots straight up, his spine going stiff like a rod. The light seems almost alien - unfriendly, unyielding, nowhere for Dan to hide. He looks at the staircase, thinking, _That was fast_ as he waits to see Arin come slowly down, the boss following close behind. Dan’s bad at guessing, but he can’t imagine that more than a few hours had passed since Arin was taken. Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe Arin pleased him enough to avoid most of the torture.

Footsteps coming down now. Dan’s heart speeds up and goose bumps break out over his arms. All the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

 _Calm down_ , he chastises himself. Arin would need comfort and support. Seeing Dan panicking would only make it harder for Arin to relax. But for some reason, Dan can’t shake the thought that something was very, very wrong.

They hadn’t locked the door - they always locked the door behind them. Dan sees thin legs, black sneakers. A light step, treading very carefully, like Dan in his early twenties sneaking back into his house at 3 AM, buzzed out of his mind. The legs are so skinny. It’s not the boss. Not Arin either. 

_I know who it is._

A moan pulls from Dan’s throat, and he shrinks back into the bed like he can melt through the mattress to hide.

The black-haired man smiles at him, eyes hard and icy as ever, like chips of flint.

“Hello again, Danny.”

Dan makes a tiny, involuntary whimper through his strained throat as he tries to speak. He finally forces out a trembling whisper. “Y-you…you’re not…supposed t-to be here…”

“I think we have some unfinished business, don’t we, honey?”

“The boss said…”

“I’ve wasted enough of my time listening to him,” the black-haired man answers softly, but with venom. “I should have taken you myself. I _could_ have taken you myself. You were so goddamn _easy_. The boss has this lovely house all set up with this cage for pretty little birdies like you…but I could have found something good enough for just you and I. No rules, no trouble. Just you, my perfect little doll.”

He approaches the bed as he speaks, his eyes moving slowly up and down Dan’s body. Dan shudders and scrunches his eyes closed, unable to deal with his own skyrocketing fear.

The man only chuckles. “That’s cute, honey, but we have to hurry. My friends are distracted, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Where…what…”

“I’m taking you back,” the black-haired man whispers, eyes gleaming. “I’m taking what’s mine and getting the fuck out of here. Anywhere, I don’t care. To hell with those traitors. They can keep their pets. I want mine. I want _you_. He didn’t even want you. You’re just a power trip to him. He wanted to fuck you in front of me, just out of spite.” 

Dan shakes his head like he can somehow stop this from happening. Maybe he should yell for help. Would they hear him from upstairs? Would it make any difference or would it just anger the black-haired man? Was trying _something_ better than lying here like the doll the man thought he was?

Before he can act, the man reaches out toward Dan’s face, quick as lightning.

“Now be a good boy and take a nice deep breath for me.”

Dan opens his mouth to scream - but instead, he gets a damp cloth shoved over his mouth and nose. It smells and tastes sickly oversweet, like touching his tongue to a packet of Splenda, but it feels like pins and needles when it flows down his throat. Dan chokes and splutters and reaches up with both hands to grab the man’s wrist, trying to push him away. His head is spinning crazily and he isn’t fast enough to react when he’s grabbed by the shoulder and hauled unceremoniously off the bed. He uses the momentum to pitch himself forward, away from the gas that’s smothering him, and tries to roll up in a ball with his head tucked down.

“Get up. Come on. Make this easy for me and I won’t have to hurt you.”

“No!” Dan’s head is already clearing as he gulps fresh air again. He hunches his shoulders and tries to flatten himself to the ground as the man tries to get a grip on his upper body to lift him back up.

“Why are you fighting this? They’re going to kill you, you know. They’re experts at it. They’ll probably drown you in the tub down here, like they did the last one. No mess to clean up after.” 

Dan tries to yell, but his throat keeps clenching shut as it spasms from the after-effects of what he’s pretty sure is chloroform. It’s hard to fight, hard to focus, when all his energy is being used up just by the struggle to breathe. Still, he’s giving the black-haired man a hard time. Dan’s not heavy, but this guy isn’t as big as his former cronies. 

“And Arin will have to watch. Do you want that, huh? You want that to be Arin’s last memory of you?”

The black-haired man’s words are intended to shock Dan into submission, and he finally succeeds. A vivid image flares bright in Dan’s mind - Arin, tied up, screaming Dan’s name, Dan’s head held underwater so Arin’s voice blurs and warbles - Dan unable to talk back, to reassure him, to say that last final _I love you_ \- 

An arm wrestles its way between Dan’s neck and shoulder, and gets him in a firm headlock. From there the black-haired man is able to lift Dan to his feet. He pulls Dan back against him and gets the rag over his face again. He isn’t able to move away from the chloroform-soaked gauze this time. The black-haired man crushes it over his whole face. 

“Come on, you little shit, why are you being so goddamn difficult?” Nerves are creeping into the man’s voice. Dan can feel his quick puffs of breath against his ear. “Come on, come on, you’re supposed to go all limp so I can fuckin’ carry you - ”

Dan tries to hold his breath, but it’s no use when he’s panicking like this. Like it or not, he has to suck in a huge lungful, and another. The pins and needles turn to fire in his throat. Contrary to everything Dan’s been taught from movies, he doesn’t lose consciousness. Instead, his head spins even faster and his muscles forcibly relax. Suddenly it’s impossible even to just hold his head upright. His panicked energy and fear flatten out into a monotonous dull acceptance. 

“There you go,” his captor says, clearly relieved. “There’s my good boy. Up we go…”

He doesn’t even notice that he’s being half-dragged up the stairs until they’re almost at the top. His feet are moving somehow, coaxed along by the black-haired man, whose arm is around his waist as he whispers _that’s it, that’s it Danny, two more, left foot, come on baby, faster, they‘ll shoot us both if they see us escaping_. Just when Dan’s head starts to break free of the fog, the rag is placed beneath his nose again and he sinks back down.

Things start to happen in flashes, like clips from a sped-up movie.

Outside the door to their prison is full of blazing light, sunshine - it’s daytime, and Dan had never known it. His captor is still gripping him tightly, but now he’s turned so that his head is resting on the black-haired man’s shoulders, like they’re embracing lovers.

Dan feels sick. The sun is too much. His head aches, and he closes his eyes against the glare.

Another flash, and Dan smells a crisp hint of flowers, clean air, the distinct tang of spring. He drags his feet and feels grass underfoot. He groans and opens his eyes, and is immediately dazzled by all the colours around him. _Freedom_ , the sunshine seems to sing, warming Dan’s skin. 

There’s a van parked carefully behind a small sloping hill. The sight of it kicks Dan in the gut. He knows that van. He’s been in there before. This was the van that he’d climbed in at gunpoint, the van that had brought him to the house of torture he’d just left. Dan shivers with horror and moans.

“Easy,” his captor says, straining with excitement, “easy, baby, we’re almost there, gonna take you for a little ride.”

“N-no,” he manages to slur. He digs his heels into the ground. He’s outside - he could run - he could…

“Little more,” the man says, and Dan knows he’s talking to himself, already sure that Dan’s checked out for good. “Not too much more or he’ll get sick - ”

The rag is back. Dan breathes in the sweet poison chemical again, and his eyelids sag to half-mast. He wavers in and out, and suddenly the van is right in front of them. The black-haired man lowers him to the ground, and Dan presses his cheek into the dirt and grass trimmings at the side of the gravel road, letting the faint spring breeze flutter through his hair. Keys jingle, a door opens. The smell of exhaust and the rumble of an engine.

When Dan comes to again, he’s flat on his back on a metal surface, the stink of smoke and the black-haired man’s sweat all around him. His feet are zip-tied together and his hands are bound above his head. Dan cranes his neck to look at his bonds - and catches an icy blue stare peeking at him from above the car headrest. 

The black-haired man is smiling, one eye drooping. He laughs, and Dan smells the alcohol on him. They’re driving way too fast, and the man is more interested in looking at Danny than the road.

“Mine,” his captor whispers, smiling lopsidedly. “You’re all mine now. So easy. We just have to make it a little further, and then I can play with my new toy. Hold on, Danny, we’re almost there.”

Dan’s throat is too raw and dry even to scream.

He closes his eyes again, and Arin’s face is in his mind. Arin, left alone now, left alone and hurt and not knowing where Suzy and Dan were, or if they were still alive. It hits him hard - he’s not going to ever see them again. He’s not going to see any of his loved ones again. He’s on his own now, and all his hopes are gone. 

_I’m sorry, Arin…I love you._

The black-haired man starts to sing along to the radio, his voice raspy and off-key. And Dan, tied up in a van for the second time in his life, struggles to accept his fate as his life starts to flash by as a series of snapshots through his head. All his hard work - his failures and his accomplishments - his journey as a musician and as a comedian - and it all ended here, like this. 

Dan starts to cry, low choking sobs that wrack his whole body. He’s never cried like this before. There is no glorious rescue awaiting him. Nobody will save him. Arin’s not here to comfort him. He’s alone, and he’s going to die, and there’s nothing he can do except pray that it comes fast.

The black-haired man turns the music up to drown him out, and pushes the van even faster, speeding toward Dan’s doom.

**

Through the blackness comes a familiar soft voice. A soft, cool hand strokes over Arin’s forehead.

Every time he begins to wake up, his body’s instinctive sense of self-preservation tugs him back under to escape. To rise to consciousness is to face a flood of pain, and Arin’s body isn’t ready for it. 

But Arin has a stronger drive within him, a purpose greater than his own needs. That voice, choked with tears, murmuring sweet things to him. Arin can’t quite make out the words, but they make his heart beat faster. It brings him an urgent feeling to take action, to respond to the plea he hears in that broken voice. The urge to protect, to comfort. He has to get up, he has to open his eyes…but the pain is everywhere, his head and legs, his face, his arm especially - oh, jesus _fuck_ , his arm is on fire from the inside, shooting jolts of agony from his shoulder to his wrist. 

Nausea grips his stomach as alarm bells start to go off in his head. He’s badly hurt. Something is very, very wrong.

The blackness beckons, and Arin starts to sink back down into it.

But that voice - he can’t ignore it.

Arin groans thickly and his lips draw back in a grimace. 

“Arin?”

He knows that voice. He’s heard it nearly every day of his life since he was a teenager. It’s imprinted in his head, so familiar and sweet. Arin tries to speak but groans again, eyebrows creasing as another wave of pain swells and crests.

“Oh, Arin…” The voice hitches. “I know it hurts, baby, I’m so sorry I can’t help.”

A faint trickle of recollection brings Arin a strong, smothering dread. “What…” he tries to say, and then the smells of sweat and mildew hit him and he remembers where he is. The basement, the torture house. But the person with him isn’t Dan. 

_He’s gone. Dan’s gone. Gone forever, and now…_

A feathery kiss brushes his forehead. Soft hair tickles his face. He must be dreaming. Or hallucinating. This can’t be right - it can’t be -

Arin opens his eyes and his world collapses.

“Suzy…” Arin’s voice is so guttural, he can barely understand himself. He licks his lips and tries again. “Suzy?”

She strokes his forehead, bends to kiss his eyebrow. “Yes,” she whispers. “It’s me, Arin, I’m right here. Don’t try to talk if it hurts. Just rest, baby. Sleep if you have to.”

“You’re not supposed to be…why are you…” Arin tries to move, to lift his arm to touch her - and a hot, electric shock zings through him. He gives one choked, raspy yell and falls limp, literally shaking with the pain.

“Don’t move,” Suzy’s voice trembles. “Arin, just rest, please. You’re…you’re hurt really bad, okay? Moving might make it worse. I don’t…I don’t know how to help.”

Arin fights back against the pain with all his strength and wills himself to clear his head. “But you…what about you? Suzy, what happened? Why are you here? What did they do to you?”

“I’m fine,” she blurts right away, and she’s never been a good liar but Arin could have seen that one from outer space. 

Arin looks more closely at her. She’s sheet-white, save for the deep purple ring around her left eye, and her bottom lip is puffy like she’d been smacked across the mouth. She sees the rage building on his face and holds up her hand before he can speak.

“It’s nothing, Arin, really. I freaked out when they…when they made me come down here. They didn’t tell me what they’d done to you. I saw you crumpled up on the ground, with your head bleeding and your arm - like that - and I…he doesn’t like it when I struggle. He just hit me, though, it could have been…”

She trails off and looks away. 

“It could have been what?” presses Arin, though he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.

“It could have been a lot worse, that’s all,” Suzy answers quietly. From her tone, Arin knows to drop the subject for now. He just nods, and she goes on, obviously relieved. “I don’t know why they brought me here. I wasn’t thinking very straight. I could hear a commotion - and I heard you screaming…I was half out of my mind, crying, banging on the door…”’

“You could hear me,” Arin says hoarsely. “The whole time…”

She casts her eyes down. Arin’s gaze follows hers to her lap, where her hands are folded in front of her. Her knuckles are covered in bruises and blood.

“You did that to yourself.” Arin blinks. “Suze - ”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I heard you - and I thought they were killing you - I was terrified.”

“I scared you.” Arin flushes. “Fuck.”

Suzy wipes her tears away furiously. “Don’t you dare feel guilty, Arin. Not when you’re - when you’re hurt like this - ” 

Arin feels her eyes on his arm. He can tell it’s bad from the way her little mouth purses up, holding herself back from crying again. He swallows hard and looks down at it himself.

His arm is purple with bruising from his elbow halfway to his wrist. His entire forearm is swollen up twice its size. And a few inches from the crook of his elbow, a large and unfamiliar lump is sticking up out of his skin. It’s not sprained or mildly fractured - it’s definitely broken, and badly. A wave of light-headedness sweeps over him.

“Oh,” he says, stupidly. He blinks. That hard lump is his actual bone, sticking through his skin. “ _Oh._ ” 

He’s surprised it doesn’t hurt worse. _You’re in shock,_ he tells himself. A lot of pain is coming. He’s already becoming aware of other alarming injuries, chiefly his knee and his head - and, of course, between his legs, where Arin was experiencing a deep and stabbing ache. Ignoring it is the only way to keep himself from going insane from the memories. What Arin had experienced in the boss’s bedroom was so unfathomably horrific that he knows his mind must be hanging on by a thread. 

Arin takes several deep, deliberate breaths to ride out another swell of agony.

Suzy winces. When Arin relaxes again, she says, “They said they pushed you down the stairs for attacking them. You went down the whole flight and hit your head at the bottom.”

“I punched one of them.” Arin remembers, his head still swimming.

“I saw. You broke his nose.” Suzy gives a warbling little laugh, half impressed and half terrified. “He looks awful. He scared me, when he came to bring me down here. I was always scared of him, but this time was especially bad. I thought maybe he was bringing me somewhere to kill me. And then I scared myself by wondering if maybe it was better to just die, than to face him again…”

Suzy trails off again, her eyes turning distant, like she’s withdrawing inside herself.

Arin knows damn well what Suzy thought was going to happen to her. Thinking about the big man makes Arin remember the words he’d hissed before pushing Arin down the stairs. His stomach tightens. “What did he do to you? Did he - did they - ”

“Don’t,” she whispers, her face flashing panic.

“Suzy,” Arin begins, his voice cracking as he watches her terrified reaction.

“Don’t tell me what he told you, don’t make me, I don’t want to talk about it, I can’t - not now, not with you like this, and I’m so scared already, Arin, _please_. ”

“I’m not going to make you do anything.” Arin reaches out with his good arm, his hand finding hers. “Breathe, baby, breathe, it’s okay.”

Suzy’s chest flutters as she pants for air. She only lets the panic overtake her for barely a minute before visibly collecting herself, showing the iron that Arin knew lay beneath her beauty. “Sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just on edge.”

“Don’t be sorry. I didn’t mean to push you.”

“You didn’t.” Her face twists. “It’s just - he told me - awful things about…what they did to you, while he was - doing things to me - and I - oh, Arin…”

“That fucking bastard,” Arin breathes. His broken arm flares bright with pain as he tries to clench his fists. “I could strangle him.”

“Me too,” she whispers, squeezing his hand lightly. “But I don’t want them to get angry and hurt you. They’ve hurt you so much already. If they come back, I’ll do whatever they want, and don’t feel scared for me. Nothing could hurt me more than watching them hurt you more than they already have.”

Arin’s stomach revolts and he tastes vomit in the back of his throat. He shakes his head, struck dumb by the thought of watching both captors do to Suzy what the boss had done to him upstairs. And Suzy, trying hard to be submissive, bending to their sick desires as Arin had done - and doing it solely to save Arin the pain. Arin would rather have them break the rest of his limbs.

“Don’t,” he pleads feebly. “Don’t try to protect me, Suzy, please. I had to watch Dan. I can’t watch them hurt you too.”

Suzy swallows back her sobs and blinks tears from her reddened eyes. “Let’s not think about that, okay? Let’s just…just be here with me, Arin. Be here with me for a little while.”

“Yeah,” Arin says hoarsely. “I can do that.”

She pushes her fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp like she’d do when they were on the couch together watching movies, Arin’s head in her lap. She carefully avoids the bruised bump on his forehead and the larger, more painful lump at the crown of his head. She’s parting his hair, looking at the damage, as she soothes and pets him. Arin tries to immerse himself in the feeling of being taken care of and looked after.

A silence stretches out between them. Arin closes his eyes and floats through the pain, supported by Suzy’s tender care and her presence itself. But they can’t hide from what’s happening to them forever. Eventually, Suzy asks the question Arin’s been dreading.

“Did they kill Dan?” 

Arin opens his eyes to see Suzy already wincing, bracing for the answer.

“No,” Arin has to say. “Not them. But I don’t know if he’s alive.”

“There was a third man…”

“The other two kicked him out of this house when he - he hurt Dan too much after they told him not to.”

A tear falls down Suzy’s cheek, but she doesn’t speak. She just looks at Arin, waiting for him to continue.

Arin swallows. “I guess it’s like…the three of them had planned this as a sort of collaboration, and each of them wanted one of us in particular. But the boss is the ringleader and I guess he’s the one that - orchestrates it all? So even though Dan was for that guy - the thin one with black hair - the boss wasn’t letting him do whatever he wanted. So he was cutting Dan with a knife, and the boss made him stop when he went too deep.”

“Oh, God,” Suzy whispers.

Arin has to finish now or he’ll never be able to. “The black-haired man, he was…not stable. He was really mad at being ordered around. And later that night, he snuck back down here - with a Taser - and he - handcuffed me to the bed while he made Dan take off his clothes and - ”

Suzy nods jerkily. “Don’t say the word. Please don’t. I know what he did.”

Arin nods back and takes a moment to catch his breath. The pain in his lower body is beginning to flare up, bringing traumatic memories with it. “He was doing - that - and I heard footsteps above us and I yelled for help. The other guys came down and made him stop and the boss told him he was out of their deal.”

“So he just - left?”

“For a little while, I guess. I haven’t seen him since. But while I was upstairs, he came back to kidnap Dan.” 

“So Dan’s alive,” Suzy says hopefully. “That man wouldn’t go through all that trouble just to kill him, right?”

“The other guys think he’s a sadist, that he loves knives and gets off on blood, so he’ll probably accidentally kill Dan sooner than later. They fucking laughed about it. They made jokes about - him doing things to Dan’s corpse and I lost it. I punched him. I wished I would have killed him.”

“Oh, Dan,” Suzy’s voice trembles. “How could they…how could anyone hurt him? He’s so…oh, God, I can’t stand to think about him dying - I wish I could have seen him one last time…”

She starts to cry, and that pushes Arin over the brink, too. 

As terrified as they both are, their exhaustion only lets them cry together for maybe a few minutes. Eventually they go quiet again. Suzy lays down next to him, curling up like she’s going to sleep, but her eyes stay open, staring into nothing.

The pain in his body worsens with time. With it, his fear spreads in his mind like an infection. Arin doesn’t voice his thoughts, but he can’t help but wonder if they’ve both been locked down here to die of starvation. Surely Arin wouldn’t be any fun to the boss in this condition. _If he tries to rape me again, I’ll just pass out._ And if the big man had gotten Suzy out of his upstairs room, maybe he was bored of her, too.

Suzy presses her face against his good shoulder and draws her body close to Arin’s side. Arin grits his teeth and turns his head, despite the pain, so he can lean down and kiss her cheek.

With his broken arm, Arin can’t hold her the way he wants to. He can’t defend her like he should. He can barely sit up to drink the water she brings him from the hose, cupped carefully in her hands. 

The only thing he can do is be some comfort at her side, in what may be their final hours.


	8. 8

The black-haired man is not a smooth driver. 

The van swerves and shakes and rumbles, its engine spluttering in protest. Dan bounces and vibrates along with it, trying not to puke from the motion sickness. His heart shoots into his throat every time they make a squealing turn.

 _Better to die in a crash than at the hands of a sadist with a knife and a literal taste for your blood._

That thought doesn’t bring much comfort. Besides, his captor had the benefit of airbags and a seatbelt. If he survived, and Dan didn’t, then he’d just find someone else to torture. He certainly didn’t lack for options. Plenty of people could be lured in with promises of money, or of an innocent ride. Hitch-hikers, sex workers, people on the streets. Maybe next time it would be someone with a family and kids to take care of. Or - God forbid - a teenager.

But maybe it would still be easier. Dan could just float away, not think any more. He’s so sick and tired of being scared all the time. With Arin at his side, Dan had been able to cope with the fear, at least enough to still feel a sense of moral duty. He’d been able to care about the fate of other victims and feel sorrow for the ones that came before them. But now, alone, he’s losing his grip. He just wants it to stop. He just wants to be numb and not to hurt anymore.

Arin had been his source of strength. Arin had always been his rock. Dan thinks about the feeling of Arin’s lips against his, Arin’s tears for him when he’d been hurt. His stomach clenches painfully. 

Just when Dan thinks he can’t take the suspense any longer, he van suddenly comes to a full, jerky stop. Dan’s thrown into the wall, forehead first, unable to get his arms down in time. His muscles are slow to respond - being tied up for hours in a van wasn’t the most comfortable experience, and he feels stiff and achy from head to toe. 

The radio turns off. The sudden silence is jarring. Dan can hear his own loud, panicked breathing. When he tries to shift his tense, achy body, he feels how badly the circulation in his hands and feet have been cut off by the zip ties.

“We should be far enough,” his captor mutters. “I can’t think straight any more. Fuck. You look so good back there waiting for me, honey.” 

Dan winces but tries to tune him out. He wonders where they are. From the sliver of window he can see, it’s still light outside, but the sun is setting fast. They must be in the middle of nowhere, an abandoned parking lot maybe. His captor surely must be aware that driving the vehicle that may have been spotted at the scene of two separate kidnappings was risky as hell. 

Maybe someone would see them. Maybe someone would come stop this. 

_He probably changed the plates. This isn’t his first time kidnapping somebody. Don’t be stupid,_ Dan snarls wearily at himself. What’s the point in pretending he’s not about to get raped again? 

The van creaks and groans as the man climbs over the seat clumsily, dropping to the van’s floor feet first. Dan closes his eyes and turns his face away, but it’s no use. Rough fingers grab Dan‘s chin and lower jaw. Dan inhales sharply through his nose and struggles against the pressure as the man tries to turn Dan’s face toward him.

He digs his fingers in even harder when Dan doesn’t immediately comply. “Danny, look at me.” 

_Why make this easy for him?_ Dan shakes his head and tenses his jaw, keeping his face turned resolutely toward the wall. Maybe he isn’t going to be able to stop himself from being raped, but he could at least try to maintain a shred of dignity. He doesn’t want to engage - he wants to close his eyes and block everything out, pretend his body doesn’t belong to him.

“Feeling feisty again, are you?” his assailant chuckles, puffing whiskey-scented breath at Dan’s face. “Come on, you know I’m gonna get what I want in the end. Why don’t you make it easy on yourself? It’ll hurt so much less. Remember how easy it was to take my dick when you settled down and let me make it good for you, too? Remember how you moaned for me, like the stupid slut you are? _Look at me_ , Dan.” 

Dan presses his lips together in defiance. Tears burn behind his tightly closed eyes. The memories of that night are bubbling up, and he doesn’t want to deal with them. He’d tried so hard to bury them. 

“That’s how you want to do this? You wanna fuckin’ test me, do you?” The man lets go of Dan’s chin and brings his hand up to cover Dan’s mouth and nose instead. He pinches Dan’s nose shut with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m not fucking around, Danny.”

It’s nothing Dan can’t handle at first. Better than the knife, better than being beaten in the face and head with the man’s fists. Dan keeps his composure for maybe twenty seconds until his body begins to panic at the lack of air. His mouth gasps open behind the man’s palm, trying to suck air from between his fingers, trying to pull back and away from the iron grip. The man only laughs and tightens his hold, keeping the seal intact.

“How long can you hold your breath? Let‘s find out together.”

Another five seconds flash by, then ten, twenty, half a minute, or more, and Dan’s head is spinning. Struggling is only making it hurt more. He goes limp, thinking maybe he’ll be let go if he stays still, but the man still doesn’t let up, doesn’t let him breathe, _God_ please he needed to breathe - and now he can’t stay still, he has to start to twist and buck and writhe, his body instinctively fighting the bonds that his brain knew they could not escape from. But moving only makes his lungs ache even more fiercely.

“What did I tell you? This is all on you, honey. You can make it easy or you can make it hard. This is what you chose.”

Dan opens his eyes as wide as he can. He can’t tell if it’s getting darker outside or if the edges of his vision are going black. He stares right up into his assailant’s merciless, cold face, begging with his eyes, all thoughts of death being an easy way out gone.

The man looks right back at him calmly, remorselessly. And then he _smiles_. It’s the closest thing to a genuine smile that Dan had ever seen on him.

He enjoys this. He loves hurting people. Killing people. 

A cold jolt of horror shoots through Dan’s body.

Dan tries to scream, to yell. He can’t even groan when his mouth and nose are both sealed off. All he gets for his efforts is a sharp pain in both of his ears as they pop from the pressure. He stares up at his assailant, tears in his eyes now, his muscles slowly losing power, his vision turning fuzzy and grey…

…and then, almost casually, the man lets go.

Dan makes a noise like a drain sucking as he gasps. His first gulp of air is so big he chokes on it, crying as he tries again, his chest screaming at him for oxygen. His brain snaps back from the brink so fast that it gives him a sharp headache behind his eyes. For a few minutes he can’t do anything but stare wide-eyed up at nothing as he sucks air open-mouthed like a fish and lets it out with ugly little grunts, sounding like an animal caught in a trap.

The man watches Dan’s struggle as calmly as he’d watched him edge toward death. “That wasn’t very long at all,” he says. “Maybe a minute, tops. What did you learn?”

Dan keeps his eyes open now, afraid to close them in case it angered his captor. He looks blankly at the man’s face. 

The man slaps him and keeps his hand poised to do it again. “I said what did you learn?”

Dan, between deep breaths, opens his mouth and says, “To…to do what you say?”

“Not quite, but you tried.” The man leans forward. Dan cringes, but another slap doesn’t come. “I think you learned that I don’t give a shit whether you make this easy or hard. I’ll get what I want either way. You’ll always break, and you’re fucking weak, so you’ll break fast. From now on, it‘s up to you. Obey me or don’t. I will hurt you until you do.”

He reaches into his pocket and flicks out a knife, _Sharp enough to shave with_ , he’d once said, touching the blade to Dan’s face, lust gleaming from his blue eyes. 

Dan whimpers at the memory of the man lapping up his blood he spilled from Dan’s stomach with his tongue, his face full of ecstasy.

“You sound so cute when you do that,” the man says. He presses the blade against Dan’s wrist, near the dirty bandage he still wore over the first wound the man had inflicted on him. Dan tenses up and looks at him pleadingly, but he doesn’t get cut. The knife point travels down Dan’s arms, over his shoulder, to the centre of his throat. Dan swallows hard and his Adam’s apple bobs up, pressing into the razor-like tip.

“Beautiful,” the black-haired man groans. Dan feels a tiny point of wetness on his throat and sees the eager gleam in the man’s eyes. The knife is pulled back - thank God - but then the man leans over Dan’s body and licks his neck.

“Can’t help myself,” he whispers into Dan’s skin. “I love your blood. I love the way it looks coming out of you.” He’s still holding the knife, and his hand is shaking. 

_He’s losing control._ Dan doesn’t think the man means to kill him - not yet - but he realizes that he might accidentally bleed him out if his blood lust grows too strong. Dan has a vivid image of a long, slow, lingering death, his face being cut up, the man raping him as he laps up the blood like a beast.

“Please,” Dan gasps. “Please don’t cut me, please…”

“You want me to fuck you instead?” When Dan doesn’t answer right away, the man moves the knife closer to Dan’s face. Dan can see the reflection of his own terrified eyes in the shiny steel blade. “I said, do you want me to fuck your ass instead?”

“Yes,” Dan whispers. 

“What was that?”

Dan swallows and raises his voice. “ _Yes!_ ” 

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want you to f-fuck me!” A small part of him is disgusted at himself. A larger part doesn’t give a shit anymore. 

“That’s better. I can do that. You missed my big dick, didn’t you?”

The knife is put down and Dan sobs in mingled relief and disgust. He doesn’t even flinch when the man leans over him again and kisses him on the mouth, wet and sloppy and invasive. The rank smell of alcohol on his mouth makes Dan’s throat clench, but he doesn’t dare move or resist. He wants that fucking knife to stay away from him. Before, the black-haired man had sliced his inner thigh open, and claimed - with honest bemusement - that the wound ‘wasn’t that deep’. The blood had felt hot as it flowed down Dan’s legs. Dan remembers the pungent smell of it and almost gags as a tongue is thrust in his mouth. 

The man isn’t so much kissing him now as he is licking his tongue, his lips, his chin and cheeks. “You’re still so goddamned hot,” he man groans, palming Dan’s crotch sloppily and giving it a squeeze until Dan cries out at the pain. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you, all by yourself at that Thai restaurant. You didn’t even see me following you, did you?”

Dan shakes his head. The pressure on his balls eases as the man’s hands move up, sliding under his shirt to feel his flat belly.

“I saw the car you got in when you left. I followed you all the way to your house.” He laughs, a harsh and ugly sound. Dan shivers at the way his pale eyes are full of hunger as he shoves his hands far enough up Dan’s shirt to feel his small nipples. “I almost convinced myself to make a grab for you right then and there. You have a very nice house, Danny. Such a nice, _private_ entry…your neighbours wouldn’t have seen a thing if I’d dragged you out your own front door. I had these zip-ties in the glove compartment. So easy to tie you up and throw you in the back.”

Dan grits his teeth as the man’s fingers close around one nipple and twist hard.

“I was so _stupid_ ,” the black man spits bitterly, watching Dan’s face struggle not to react to the pain. “I convinced myself it was better to wait and learn more about you. So when you came out, I was still there, watching. And I followed you to work, and waited some more, but you didn’t come out. I waited until midnight.”

 _How did I not notice all of this?_ Dan’s stomach does a queasy flip. He remembers going to the Thai place - it stands out in his memory, as he normally just had it delivered. But he’d been out at a meeting, and the sign had caught his eye on the way home. It had been a Thursday. A recording day. He’d stayed till one-thirty, playing Majora’s Mask with Arin. This man had sat outside, watching, while Dan and Arin played fucking video games for hours, unaware…and there were other people coming and going, maybe walking right past the van, and what if one of them had been grabbed instead?

His thoughts are brought to a screeching halt when the black-haired man lays down on top of him, crushing him against the floor of the van. Lips find Dan’s collarbone, hot breath moist on his skin. The man grinds his hips forward, and Dan feels his cock press hard against his thigh.

“Why are you being so quiet for me all of a sudden, hmm? I like it better when you moan a little. I don’t like it when you cry, but that fucking whimper that you do gets me so hot…”

Dan doesn’t respond. The man nuzzles his chest again and then, without warning, bites down right on the collarbone. The pressure increases until the pain is too much to handle, and Dan opens his mouth and lets out a little whine.

The pressure eases, and the man licks the sore skin again. 

“I found out your name,” he continues breathlessly as he starts to hump Dan’s prone body. “Watched all your videos. Watched you shaking your hips on stage like a fucking slut, wearing that tight spandex. _Fuck_. You were fucking _begging_ for it, weren’t you?”

“It’s a character,” Dan whispers through numb lips. “Just a character.”

“Don’t give me that shit. You’re a tease, that’s what you are. You like being a goddamn tease, but now you’re gonna pay for it. I’ve waited for you long enough. I had a taste, but I want more.”

“Oh, God,” Dan moans as the man abruptly sits up and starts to work at undoing Dan’s pants. 

“It’ll be easier this time. And you liked it, remember? Don’t pretend like you didn’t moan like a whore when I fingered you.”

Dan remembers vividly. His cheeks flush with shame.

The man fumbles at his crotch for a while, the alcohol clearly making him clumsy and uncoordinated. But soon enough, Dan’s pants are open. The man tugs them down with Dan’s underwear, all the way down to where his ankles are tied together. Then he pushes Dan’s shirt up to his neck, tucking it around his armpits to keep his chest and stomach exposed. 

Dan doesn’t have the strength to feel embarrassed. He’s been stripped naked and touched in intimate places so many times that it barely fazes him any more. He still shivers when the man ignores his junk and instead the barely-healing wound on his stomach.

“Hurts?” he asks, his pink tongue poking out.

“Y-yes.”

He presses his fingers to the thin red line and watches Dan’s face twist as he fights not to groan. “Good.”

Dan hears the jangle of a belt, the short rip of a zipper, familiar sounds. His assailant is getting his cock out and ready to fuck him. It’s happening and Dan can’t stop it, can’t do a damn thing. At the time he’d hated having Arin beside him, watching - but now he’d do anything to not feel so horribly alone. He wonders how Arin felt when the boss took him upstairs - if he’d cried or fought or took it with the same calm bravery he’d shown in the basement that first day. Does Arin know he’s gone yet? Is the boss is done with him? Or is he in the very same position that Dan’s in now?

“Oh, Arin,” he whispers out loud before he can think. He bites down on his lip as soon as the name is out of his mouth.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing…”

“Are you pretending I’m Arin?” The black-haired man laughs. “I don’t believe you when you tell me the two of you have never fucked around. Was he cheating on his wife with you?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “I don’t blame him. I’d get sick of her, too. Well, go ahead and call me Arin if it makes you feel better. Pretend it’s Arin touching you.”

Dan shakes his head and grimaces. That feels so sick and wrong. Arin was so gentle, so kind, his touch always surprisingly tender for such a large and imposing man.

“Stop making that face. It makes you look ugly.”

Dan can’t help but cry out in fear when the man snatches up the knife again. “No, no, no, please, I’ll stop, I’ll stop - ”

“Shut up, cunt.” He’s reaching down between Dan’s legs. Between Dan’s legs with the fucking knife, oh, God. Dan feels a powerful wave of fear rock through him, rendering him speechless - but he’s only going for the zip-tie binding Dan’s ankles together. “This needs to come off. Need your legs open for me. You kick me and I swear I’ll castrate you.”

Dan nods and exhales. The zip-tie pops open at the slightest tug of the knife. It’s too easy to imagine that knife gliding through his skin, lopping off parts of him just as smoothly.

“Good boy,” the black-haired man praises as he pulls Dan’s pants and under off completely. He grabs Dan’s ankles and pushes them apart without resistance. “You can keep the one around your wrists on. I should tie them to something…”

He looks up at Dan’s hands, frowning, but doesn’t seem to find a solution. “Oh well. It’s not like you’re going anywhere, anyway. You try to run, and I’ll break both your ankles with a crowbar. Now put your legs up here, baby.”

“What?”

“Are you stupid? Legs up. I want to see you. I want to watch your pretty face when I fuck you.”

Dan swallows hard, his throat dry as paper. He stares desperately up at those cold blue eyes, pleading silently. This is going to feel worse than being on all fours. This was going to feel - not _intimate_ , but close, his legs up around the black-haired man’s neck like they were making love. It’s a sick parody of an act meant to be special, just one more humiliation to add to the horror. Slowly, he lifts his aching legs one at a time and settles his ankles over the man’s shoulders.

His captor pushes himself forward and his brow creases as he settles his and Dan’s weight on his bony knees. 

“Should have picked up a mattress,” he mutters. “Fuck. Too late now. You ready, honey? You ready for this big dick?”

He’s looking at Dan like he wants an answer.

“No,” Dan blurts, in a voice so faint it sounds nothing like him.

The man laughs. “Good.”

He spits in the palm of his hand, and Dan goes cold all over when he realizes that’s the only lube he’s getting. His eyes widen and his mouth opens in a silent cry of protest.

The black-haired man smiles, that same gleeful smile he’d had as he watched Dan slowly suffocate. “If you stay real still for me, and keep those eyes on mine, I won’t tear you open.”

He thrusts his hips forward in one hard, smooth motion, and Dan screams.

“Shh,” the man croons at him, kissing Dan’s ankle, his cock twitching inside Dan’s ass. “You’re okay, you’re okay, just take it.” He’s buried halfway inside, and Dan’s hips twist as they try to escape. With his hands bound and his legs raised up, he has no leverage, no way to pull back from it. 

The man groans and straightens his back, using his arms to brace himself against the sides of the van to lean his upper body back. He drops his head and aims another gob of spit down to where they’re joined. Dan flinches in disgust when it hits his balls and drips down. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks Dan patronizingly as he begins to move, hips pushing forward in quick little jolts.

“Yes!” Dan sobs.

“Well, you better get used to that. I can’t believe I waited this long to have you again.”

The first time was nothing, absolutely nothing compared to this. It feels like he’s being reamed out with a hot poker. The muscles in his legs go taut, squeezing weakly around his rapist’s neck He tries to draw his knees back, but the man moves with him, bending Dan’s thighs toward his chest. The angle makes the man’s cock drive in even deeper. 

“Please,” Dan moans. He can‘t keep his eyes open, despite being ordered to. “God, please no, please stop, please - ”

“You feel so good and tight, honey. My old friends didn’t fuck you, did they? So good of them to save you for me.”

Dan tries to block out his voice. It should be easy, with how much pain he’s in - but it’s not, and the man keeps talking, taunting him as he rapes him, clearly loving every second of the physical and emotional pain he’s inflicting.

“You look beautiful right now,” he tells Dan, which is fucked up in itself, because Dan’s sure he looks like living death right now - his face and upper body bruised yellow and red and purple from the beating, his skin stretched too tight over his bones. But this man can look at him, hurt and sobbing, and think _beautiful._

There‘s fire in his eyes, fire and lust and something dark and inhuman. “I’m gonna fuck you like this over and over again. You’re _mine_ , all mine, never anyone else’s ever again. Maybe you’ll be the first toy I don’t break and throw away. You want that? Want to be my pretty little fuck toy forever? I’ll get a little place - chain you to the fuckin’ bed all day - get to come home to you waiting for me, for my dick - ”

Dan sobs, shaking his head, barely able to speak at all through his groans and whimpers. The man’s right hand is gripping his hair, holding on for leverage. His left hand is touching Dan’s face, his panting mouth, cigarette-stained fingers mapping the slope of his nose and his rough unshaven cheeks. “N-no - no please, please Jesus no - ”

The man laughs cruelly. “You sound just like Arin.”

Dan’s eyes shoot open. His gaze locks on to the laughing, mocking face above him, but he’s struck speechless.

His rapist’s smile widens. “I could hear him. When I came in to get you from the basement. That’s how I knew it was safe for me to come. The boss was sure having a lot of fun.”

Dan shakes his head. “You’re lying,” he whispers. “You’re lying…”

“Am I? I could hear both of them, they were making a racket. How else do you think I managed to sneak in? You don’t think dragging you up the stairs made a lot of noise? Why do you think nobody came to investigate? If you weren‘t so out of it you would have heard them too.”

“No,” Dan moans. _I don’t want to hear this, oh, God._

“Arin was screaming,” the man says with relish. “Screaming for it to stop.”

“S-Suzy…what did they do to Suzy?”

“She took it easier than either of you, you know. What did I tell you about girls already being broken in? But I imagine she was making a fuss because of Arin. I wonder what she was thinking, listening to him scream from right across the hall, powerless to help him. What do you think, honey? Was she worried about him or just worried she’d be next? You think she offered herself up to protect him, like Arin tried to do for you?”

Dan doesn’t think. He _can’t_ think. His brain whirls round and round. Arin screaming - Suzy clawing at her bonds or at the door - Arin screaming for help - the man who gave everything for Dan, who sacrificed himself without a second thought - _Arin_ …

Dan opens his mouth and nothing comes out. In his head, he’s screaming too. Something inside him just - _gives_. Like he’s blown a fuse. He can’t handle what he’d just heard. It’s not just that he won’t, that he doesn’t want to think about it. He just simply - can’t. 

Tears fall from his eyes, but Dan goes limp and doesn’t sob or cry. He lets himself be rocked back and forth by the man’s thrusts, staring vacantly up at the ceiling as he tastes the salt from his own tears as they drip into his slack mouth.

“Somebody just decided they liked getting fucked, after all,” the black-haired man laughs, and speeds up. “You like that? You like my big cock in your tight little ass?”

Dan’s body is rocked back and forth with the force. He’s a rag doll, a fuck toy, just like the man wanted. His legs are beginning to slip. The pain is so great that he can barely feel them any more. His rapist pauses to hike them back up and then winces when he tries to thrust again.

“Fuck, my _knees_ ,” the black-haired man groans, and suddenly he’s pulling out of Dan’s ass and rolling to his side. Dan’s legs slip off his shoulders and fall heavily to the ground. Out of his mind with pain, Dan’s body curls into the fetal position as he heaves dry sobs, almost choking on them. “Fuckin’ hurts so bad. I knew I should have gotten that mattress. Gonna - fuck - hold on, honey, let me just - fuck, all these keys - ”

Dan hears the man moving around but doesn’t register what he’s doing. He barely feels it when he’s grabbed by the hair and pulled toward the back of the van. 

“I’d tell you not to run,” the man says, “but something tells me you wouldn’t be able to _walk_ straight if you tried.”

The van’s back doors fling open, and Dan is given a push at the base of his spine. He falls out of the van headfirst, bound arms useless, face planting into what he first thinks is concrete. A spike of pain drives through his skull, unfortunately not strong enough to knock him unconscious. He’s on a gravel road. Dark. The dry-sweet smell of trees and shrubs, wind whispering through bushes, crickets chirping. Dan blinks once as his senses come back to him. 

_Outside. We’re outside. You can run - you can run…_

Except he’s face-down in the dirt, and it’s pitch black, and when he tries to stand up his legs barely even twitch.

 _Weak,_ Dan curses at himself, his face burning with shame.

The black-haired man laughs at him, then drags him by the hair again around to the front of the van. Dan’s bare legs and ass scrape against the rocky ground. He’s still so in shock by what the man had told him about Arin and Suzy that his body is lifeless despite the pain. For one ridiculous moment he feels like the Dannequin from their video shoots.

Dan is hauled up off the ground and throws him over the hood of the van, bound hands straight out in front of him. Dan’s face presses into the cold aluminium. 

“Here we go. This is a lot easier. Next time I fuck you, it’ll be on a proper bed. For now, this will work.”

Dan hears the man spit again, and then he’s shuffling up behind Dan to position himself. When his cock presses against Dan’s hole, there’s much less resistance. He’s stretched open, soft around the edges, so easy for the rigid shaft to slide back in, up and up and up until Dan’s flattening himself against the van to try and get away. 

“Yeah,” the black-haired man sighs. His hands run down Dan’s back to his ass. He spreads Dan open, thrusting impossibly deeper. The man stays close, rutting deep but shallow, grunting like a pig. “Take it, slut. Look at you, not even struggling. You’re a good boy. My good boy. Mine, all mine, oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

This was a fresh horror. Dan screws up his face at the thought of having to get back in the van after this, defiled and full of cum. It makes him want to vomit. And then how long until they stopped again? How long until they got to wherever they were headed? How many times could Dan survive this? 

_How many times will this happen to Arin and Suzy?_ a horrible voice whispers in his head.

“Fuck, fuck, oh, yeah, honey, oh, _fuck_ \- here it comes - ”

The urge to vomit becomes stronger when Dan feels a warm spurt inside of him. He hates that he can feel it, all slimy and wet. When the man pulls his dick out, the wetness follows, dripping down Dan’s crack and down the back of his thighs. He gags out loud.

“What, you don’t like that? Next time I’ll finish in your mouth, maybe you’ll like that better. Or all over that pretty face of yours.” He sounds so goddamn _happy._ Dan hears the flick of a lighter and a groan of satisfaction. 

_How could anyone be so pleased to do this to somebody?_ Dan wonders helplessly.

Fingers probe his slick hole, holding Dan open with a thumb and index finger like he’s watching his cum drip out. “Wow,” Dan hears him say softly, reverently, and then a finger is sliding inside him. Dan barely feels it, he’s so slick and wet.

The finger is withdrawn, and the man reaches around to press it to Dan’s mouth.

Dan’s immediate reaction is to retch, a loud thick ugly sound. He can feel the slime on his lips and thinks, _that was inside me, that’s all in me_. He can’t move, can’t get away, and the man laughs as he dips the finger into Dan’s mouth. 

“It doesn’t taste that bad, does it? You better get used to that, too. You’re going to be drinking a lot of it, I promise.”

Dan shudders and gags again. 

“Are you going to puke?” the black-haired man demands.

Dan shakes his head and makes himself dizzy. “No,” he answers hoarsely, thinking _please don’t, please don’t make him mad, not now._

“Good.” The man drapes himself over Dan’s body, crushing him into the van. His soft cock presses against Dan’s ass. “You’re everything I ever wanted,” he mumbles into Dan’s hair. His touch is gentle, almost romantic, as he reaches up and caresses Dan’s outstretched arms and strokes his hair. “You’re everything I hoped the others would be. So good to me. I’m going to tie you up with something a little less tight. Would you like that? Look at your hands, they‘re purple. Poor baby. I’ll tie them up with my belt instead.”

With a final kiss to the nape of Dan’s neck, the man stands up and grabs Dan’s slim waist. Dan’s legs buckle as he’s forced to stand. Dan stumbles, shuddering in fear. The darkness makes him think of being back in the basement, trying to move around in the dark, every step so tentative. The man catches him, supports him as he half-drags, half-escorts Dan around the back of the van. Before he pushes Dan inside, he kisses the open cut on Dan’s forehead. 

“Good boy,” he says, with blood on his lips, as he cuts Dan’s hands free. Dan’s instinct is to stretch his fingers, but the pain of blood rushing back in makes him freeze. His captor works fast, whipping his belt out from his pants, buckling and looping it into a double sliding knot and easily fitting both of Dan’s hands through. With a tug, the loop tightens. It’s much more comfortable and just as restrictive as the zip-tie.

“There you go,” the man says soothingly. His eyes are soft and dreamy. He looks like an entirely different person. “Lay down, I’ll get your pants back on so you’re not cold.”

Dan isn’t sure what frightens him more - his captor’s rage or this sweetness. It feels genuine - the man truly is in a good mood - but there’s something deeply unsettling about it, too. _He could snap at any minute. Just one wrong move and he’ll snap and hurt me._

A stronger man might have seized the opportunity. Dan could kick him in the face as his feet were pushed through the leg holes of his boxers and pants. Dan could use his bound hands to strike, albeit awkwardly. 

But he’s not strong. He’s weak, and he’s a good little fuck toy. He can still taste the cum in his mouth.

And all Dan does is start to cry, for the hundredth time.

His captor bends over him and actually licks up a tear. The shock of that actually silences Dan. 

“That’s right, don’t cry. It’ll be so much easier the next time. You’ll learn to like it, I promise. You were just tense this time, it was your fault it hurt you so much. You’ll learn. Just keep being good for me and I’ll be good to you.” 

_It’s_ my _fault you raped me and it hurt?_ some part of him wants to snarl, but the fighter in Dan is overwhelmed by the much more influential chicken-shit coward of him. He despises himself for it, and yet he’s too exhausted to care anymore.

The black-haired man smiles at him again and just watches him cry for a long moment. Then he kisses Dan’s forehead, gets up, and climbs over the seats. “Now sit tight. We’re gonna drive for a while longer yet, but when we get there I’ll make you some food and let you have some water, okay?”

The van starts up with a roar.

Dan closes his eyes and thinks of Arin screaming for help that would never come.


	9. 9

Dan’s eyes are wide open, staring at nothing but the intermittent flashes of streetlights painting stripes across the ceiling. The dusk is fading into night. His body is exhausted, worn out from pain and hunger and the heavy oppression of constant terror.

Dan wonders if he’ll ever be able to sleep. 

He can’t stop thinking, his mind going in circles. How long does he have left? Despite the black-haired man’s fond dream of some house where Dan could be kept as a pet, it doesn’t seem likely that he’ll last longer than a few weeks. His captor is unstable, easily angered, and easily distracted by Dan’s blood - even just a tiny drop made his hands shake, made him want to cut Dan more. 

Maybe it would be easy just to struggle a little against the knife. One cut, that’s all it would take. Dan’s endured worse. A little pain, but he’s had experience with pain. One cut, deep enough to nick a big vein, and Dan could close his eyes and find peace. After all his suffering, death doesn’t seem like such a horrible concept. Without hope, without Arin, Dan has nothing left anyway.

The black-haired man has gone quiet, for now. He’s sobered up and his driving is easier. The only thing he’s said since tying Dan back up was, “We’ll get there well before sunrise.”

Dan‘s mind drifts back to Arin. Would he ever see another sunrise? Would he even get to see his wife again, before the end? How long did Arin have left? The boss seemed less obsessed with Arin himself and more excited at having a warm body to fuck, a lively spirit to break. Once he’d taken all the fun out of Arin, he’d kill him and cheerfully grab someone else without batting an eye.

The rumbling of the car takes Dan back to childhood, to Hebrew school, to arguing with his sister about the details of the afterlife. He hasn’t given it much thought since then. Now he tries to believe again. _I’ll meet him there - wherever we go. He won’t have to be alone. And neither will I._

And Suzy…Dan has no idea what’s happened to her already, and how the men interact with her. She’s tough - but if they killed Arin, and told her about it, she may crumble. It’s possible that the big man, the one that _had a thing_ for her, as the boss had said, prefers her broken…or maybe he’ll get bored of her, too, once the fire in her eyes is extinguished forever. 

Dan swallows hard and tries to think of all of them reunited, smiling, free of pain. _I’m sorry,_ he would tell Arin and Suzy. _I love you both. I wish I had more time to show you just how much. If only we had more time…_

The van hits a bump or pothole, and Dan’s body jolts. The pain slices through him like a knife, sharp as ever. Time hasn’t dulled any of his wounds. He fights back a whimper, not wanting to arouse his captor, but he can’t stop his eyes from welling up as the truth is driven home once again.

No matter how much he wished for a quick death - no matter how much he tried to convince himself that heaven was waiting around the corner - Dan knows, in his heart, that it’s all another fantasy, a stupid pipe dream. It hurts and it’s going to keep hurting, and it will only get worse. He’ll be hurt over and over until his battered body finally gives up.

And Arin and Suzy are going to suffer the same fate.

Dan closes his eyes tight against the horror, but he can’t hold it back. It eats at him, devouring his sanity and his strength and his will to fight. Not that he had much of that to begin with…not like Arin…Arin screaming for help, screaming for it to stop…

Was he still screaming now, hours later?

Dan shudders and wants to vomit. It might anger the man if he vomits in the van. He tries to breathe deep, stretching his body as best as he can. His foot knocks against something lying on the floor of the van. Something hard, solid metal.

All of a sudden, his heart is pounding. He looks at his feet. In a passing flash of light, Dan gets exactly half a millisecond to look at what it is. It takes his brain another moment to register and identify it.

Dan’s eyes widen in the darkness as the realization hits him like a fucking freight train.

It’s a big padlock. A big rusty padlock, hanging open on the floor.

The padlock that had locked the back doors of the van.

_The only lock from the inside._

The black-haired man could not have locked it from the outside, because he’d climbed into the back with Dan. 

The van turns a curve and Dan’s foot hits the lock again. He cringes at the loud scrape as it skids along the floor, sure the man will hear it and turn around to see what had made the noise. He holds his breath, but the black-haired man stays quiet.

Dan’s mind moves in a weird, jerky way. The door is open. It will open with a single, easy grasp at the handle. But Dan’s arms are tied together and the black-haired man is armed - and the van is going about seventy miles a fucking hour - he’d already BEEN outside the van and he’d done fuck all - but that was because the man was on him, right there, and he’d had no chance to run - 

His feet are still free - he _can_ run - his hands are bound but he could still maybe grab the door handle - but he’d only get one shot, just one fucking shot, before the black-haired man would be on him with the knife or the Taser or the crowbar he’d promised to break Dan’s ankles with. 

One shot. What if Dan got the doors open, only to fall face-first onto the asphalt at seventy miles an hour? - what if he did manage to jump without killing himself and they were in the middle of nowhere, nothing but desert, and it came down to Dan versus the black-haired man in a foot race to - where? Was a three second head start really that big of a deal? Dan’s hungry and thirsty and tired and his legs are gangly at the best of times. Days of lying down and not moving, combined with starvation, have made them spindly and rubbery. 

_He’ll catch you and beat you, beat you worse than you can imagine, he’ll break your ankles so you can’t run._

But maybe Dan could wait until the motion and speed of the car indicated they were passing through a city or town, stopping for streetlights, maybe hearing noises like other loud cars and sirens. 

_The longer you wait, the more likely it is that he’ll notice the doors aren’t locked._

But even the process of getting to his knees and crawling awkwardly would be lengthy, loud, and noticeable. Could Dan even begin to try without the black-haired man noticing? 

Something wild and terrible is ricocheting around the inside of Dan’s head, shaking him, screaming, _It’s your only chance, your only chance, your last chance, you have a head start if you bolt, you’re going to die if you don’t do it, you’re going to fucking DIE, go on, do it, RUN -_

No, he has to wait. He has to fucking think about this. This is literally life or death. Step one is calm down and think. Step two can wait. 

Dan breathes in and out, in and out. _Think. Think clearly._ He has to carefully consider all of his options, weigh the pros and cons. It’s difficult to stay calm. _Life or death, fuck, this is the biggest decision you’ll ever make - it’s your life on the line, yours and Arin’s and Suzy’s too._

Oh Jesus, it was true, if he escaped he could still save them - 

If he opens the door and they’re still moving, his only chance is to either injure himself to the point of death - or, if he was very, very lucky, he could tuck and roll - somehow, with his bound hands - and only cover himself in road rash and possibly break a few bones. His chest still aches from the old injury - he had probably been right about his rib being cracked. Then he’d still have to get up and run, all before the black-haired man could stop the van, get out, and come after him. 

There was also a small chance of a vehicle being close enough behind them that they would see the van’s doors open, see the tied-up man inside, and decide to call the police. That all depended on the police believing the report and managing to find the vehicle before the black-haired man escaped, or killed Dan and dumped his body to avoid arrest.

Waiting until the van stopped seemed like the best option. If they stopped, it was likely that they had reached a populated area with cross-streets and stop signs. That would also maximize his chances of being seen and rescued. But California - if they were even still in California - had some long freeways and a lot of empty space. It could take a very long time before they stopped. 

And all it would take for this plan to be foiled was one quick look in the mirror and his captor would notice the unlocked door. 

One look and Dan was dead. One look. Any minute now…

_Stop panicking and THINK._

Dan feels like a mouse, frozen in the path of a cat. Stiff and rigid, terrified almost to death. One little gasp or strange noise and the man might look behind him, might finally notice the door. 

_Think. Think about your options._ Jumping was stupid. It was true that he’d already considered suicide, but - it didn’t seem like a very easy death to throw his body against asphalt. And if he did survive, he wouldn’t be able to outrun his captor - period. He already knew that. If running while injured and potentially in the middle of nowhere was in any way an option, he would have done so back when he was about to be raped up against the van. He couldn’t do it then and he wouldn’t be able to do it now. 

What if he listened very carefully and waited for audio clues, to make sure they were close to another vehicle? Dan turns his head from side to side slowly, trying to make out whether or not he could hear anything but the van’s engine. _Probably not._

He would just have to wait it out, endure the suspense and not let it weaken him. Wait for it, just wait, he could do that. The first opportunity that comes his way, he’ll take it. They have to stop. Sooner or later, they’ll come to a city or town. Or, fuck, a gas station, anything. They had to stop.

If Dan’s caught, the pain will be beyond comprehension. He knows that damn well.

And he only gets one shot. One shot to save his life. One shot to end it.

If Arin were here, he’d do anything to save Dan’s life. He’d break both arms and legs jumping out of this van and still run to find help. He wouldn’t give a shit about himself - he’d jump out in traffic just to get someone’s attention, and if he died, he’d do it bravely. 

Arin would do it for him. He’d do it for Suzy. Dan has to do it, for both of them.

And now the van is stopping.

The van is stopping and Dan’s not ready, not fucking ready to die, not ready to run.

_You have to be._

But he’s frozen, totally frozen in place, bowels turned to jelly.

The black-haired man reaches for a water bottle in the armrest and leans back in his seat. _Red light, it’s a red light. He’s waiting for a while. He’s not looking at you. Go. Go now. DO IT._

Dan starts to move, and then he hears a noise that sets off every alarm in his body. A rhythmic, frenzied dinging sound that sounds both familiar and completely alien. He’s already moving, sitting up - _one shot, one shot_ \- when, too late, he recognizes the sound as a train crossing alarm. 

A train is coming.

It wasn’t a red light - they had stopped for a train - they could be anywhere, anywhere in the middle of nowhere -

But Dan’s already halfway to the door, moving like molasses.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Danny?”

_MOVE, he hears you, he SEES you -_

The blood roars in his ears, drowning out the surprised curses and threats that are already coming from his captor. Dan only hears the _whoosh_ of the seatbelt, the creaking car seat, both telling him that he still has time, he still has a few seconds. He fumbles at the handle with his bound hands. It slips out of his grasp on his first try, doesn’t unlatch on the second. Dan’s movements become more desperate, his hands starting to shake. 

“Oh, you little brat, you little FUCK, lay back down right now or I swear to God - ”

On his third try, it works. The doors pop open and the sweet smell of night air pours in.

“Danny!”

Dan sobs in fear and tries to swing his legs around, to scoot out feet-first. But his motions are shaky, frenetic, and he falls. He ends up doing a stupid sort of half-roll, crushing his bound hands beneath him and bouncing his body painfully off cool asphalt. 

He doesn’t feel any of it. Not the broken finger, not the bloodied knee. 

_Get up get up get up GET UP -_

“You little _fuck_ ,” the black-haired man roars. “Let’s see you try to fucking run again when I’m done with you - ”

Dan’s heart sinks to his toes when he looks up at the road.

He’d picked the worst possible time to run. 

They were in the middle of a flat, dry plain, not a single tree or shrub to hide behind. There are no other cars in sight. The train is only three cars long, and it had already passed by. Dan can hear it and feel it thundering away in the distance. No buildings - no people - nothing but desert - _one shot, you had one shot, and you blew it_ -

“Get your ass back here, Danny, do it now or you’re dead!”

_He’s right there oh God he’s right there RUN -_

Everything is suddenly moving in slow motion. Every beat of his heart seems to take a lifetime. 

His captor is coming, holding something in his hand. A crowbar, like he promised. His lips raise in a snarl.

Dan remembers the last time he’d truly pissed the man off, that first day when he’d woken up in the upstairs room. He’d forgotten about wanting to rape Dan - all he’d wanted to do was beat him to death. And now he has a fucking crowbar. 

“Danny!”

If he surrenders now, maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe…

_What would Arin do?_

Dan’s legs start to kick like a turtle stuck on its back. It takes him way too long to figure out that he can just get on his hands and knees and push himself up from there. 

“You stupid fucking _slut_!”

The crowbar makes a whistling noise as it comes down. Dan screams and throws his body forward, sliding against the asphalt, and the curved end thuds down an inch from his foot. He screams again anyway. His throat feels like it’s filled with hot coals. 

Somehow, impossibly, he bounds to his feet, makes his jelly limbs move. It’s not like in his nightmares, where he feels like he tries to run and can’t move. He moves like a sprinting deer, pushed by adrenaline. He’s up, up and running to - god knows where - _please God if you’re there, help me, help me please._

God doesn’t listen.

Not fifteen feet from the van, the crowbar connects with Dan’s ribs, and he goes down like a sack of potatoes, without even a scream. All the breath is gone from his lungs.

“You stupid, _stupid_ motherfucker,” the black-haired man pants, looming above him.

Dan has enough time to turn onto his back and croak, “ _Please -_ ” as he hears the whistle of the crowbar - but it’s too late.

Dan’s knee explodes in a red sea of pain.

The night sky above him blurs as his brain shorts out. He’s moving, writhing, convulsing, the cords on his neck standing out as he shrieks. 

He’d thought he was an old hand at pain. 

He was wrong.

This - this was it, this was too much, this was more than anyone could handle. But, cruelly, he doesn’t faint this time. He sobs, the ugly sound echoing across the desert, and there’s nobody there to hear and nobody that can stop this.

The man is right there, practically on top of him. Dan sobs again and says, “Please stop please don’t hurt me again I can’t - ”

“You were being so good,” the black-haired man barrels over him, and his voice is filled with loathing. “I tried so hard to pick a good one this time. I spent all that time looking, all this time planning our little getaway together. And now you’ve fucked it all up. I’ll have to find another. And I‘m going to have to deal with your stinking corpse all the way to Bakersfield. _Fuck!_ ”

 _So this is how it ends._

Dan’s seized by the hair, wrenched upward by an iron grip on his shoulders. He’s being taken back to the van to die. 

“No,” he gasps. “No! Please!”

The crowbar, where did it go? - the man was using two hands to carry him. Dan thrashes his good leg and digs his heel into the rocky earth. His foot catches on something - a railroad tie - he hadn’t realized that he’d fled across the train tracks. It anchors him, and the pulling stops. _Please I don’t want to die please_ -

“Come on, you piece of shit, come on, come _on!_ ”

His captor - _his killer_ \- is panicked. Why is he panicked? Dan doesn’t have a lot of fight left in him, this won’t take long. Dan’s struggles are the last ditch effort of a man seconds from death - he can’t help it, though he knows it’s pointless. It hurts so _fucking_ bad, he can’t stand this, nobody could stand this. 

“Come ON!”

The black-haired man grabs Dan in a headlock and pulls as hard as he can.

And Dan turns his head to the side and bites down.

He has a flash of déjà vu. He’d done the same thing the first time he’d been groped by this man. He’d bitten a big meaty chunk right out of his arm. But, back then, he let go.

He does not let go this time.

His captor screams and Dan’s mouth fills with blood. He bites harder, harder, grinding his teeth in. The two men struggle in the sand, thrashing, yelling their pain to the sky. Dan feels it keenly when he gets to a soft, jelly-like layer, oh God that’s fat, what little fatty tissue the man has, and Dan shakes his head back and forth like a dog until he hits something that feels like overcooked steak - muscle - who’s that screaming? Dan, or _him?_

Suddenly Dan drops to the ground, panting, salty blood and dust and sand in his mouth. He raises his arms over his face, sure that what’s coming next is a crowbar to the head - any second now - but where -

Dan opens his eyes.

Lights. Headlights.

A car - no - a truck - a big semi. 

_God, it’s going to run me over._

The black-haired man left him here to let somebody else have the dirty work of killing him, splattering his body all over the road like a squirrel.

The truck blares its horn, drowning out Dan’s awful, ragged noises of sheer terror and pain.

_He sees me._

The black-haired man had run to save his own skin - he knew - he knew there was a chance Dan could be…could be saved…

With the last of his failing strength, Dan raises his bound arms, thinking _please please God let him see let him see I need help -_

The truck’s lights get closer and closer. Dan shakes. The lights are moving. It’s swerving, swerving to avoid the crazy man in the middle of the road - Dan probably looks like a fucking zombie, the driver is probably terrified -

“Please!” Dan screams to the sky. It’s all he has left in him. His body is running on empty. 

He tries to scream again, but his red-hot sandpaper throat simply will not let sound pass through. He sobs once, noiselessly. He doesn’t know where the black-haired man is - he doesn’t know if he’s about to die - he has one hope, one single hope, and it all depends on this random trucker stopping to help him.

The truck rolls to a stop but doesn’t turn off its engine.

“Hey!” the truck driver hollers. “What the fuck, where did you come from?”

The pain is everywhere, making Dan dizzy. His knee is on fucking fire. Dan wonders if chopping off his leg would be better than enduring this. He tries to speak, but nothing comes out. 

“Are you on fucking drugs, asshole?”

Dan tries to sit up and sways, doing nothing to help that impression. It’s too dark for the trucker to see how badly hurt he is. He reaches out his arms, enduring the screaming pain, to show the man that he was tied up and in distress.

A moment of silence, and then the trucker turns off his engine. 

The door opens and closes. The trucker is getting out.

“Hey. Hey, man, what are you doing? Are you drunk? Are you - wait - God, did you fall out of a fucking car?”

Dan thinks of Arin - Arin always protecting him, being strong and brave for him. “H-help…help me…I need…the van…the license p-plate….”

“Your leg, oh fuck man, your leg.” The man’s voice is suddenly thick. 

“Van…white van…”

“I’m calling 911,” the stranger says, his voice still clogged with disgust. He sounds uncertain. “They’ll get you an ambulance, man. Just - lay down or something, oh, jesus.”

“Please,” Dan croaks, fading. “Please…l-listen…”

The trucker comes closer. Dan can make out his face. Ruddy beard, patchy brown hair. Broad and chubby, small eyes like a bear, but he looks amiable. 

“Uh,” he says with huge eyes. “I don’t know first aid, man. You’re gonna have to wait. Shit. Fuck.”

Dan has to stay awake, he has to. “That man…there’s a man…a white van…please…Listen, he’s got - ”

“I saw a van driving away. Fuck, did it hit you? I have to dial - ”

 _He’s running. He’s getting away._ “No!” Dan cries. “My friends - he - he has - ”

“He has your friends?”

“H-he…he knows…Where they are, he…he has friends…had friends…they…they kidnapped…”

“You were on the news,” the man says with dawning comprehension on his rugged ursine face. “Hey, fuck, you’re the guy on Youtube.”

“Two more. There’s two more. Forget me. Save…save them.” Dan bobs weakly on the surface of consciousness. His whole leg is dipped in a fiery blazing pit of hell. 

“It’s alright, man, it’s alright. You can tell them, hold up, I’ll tell ‘em, send an ambulance and a cop or something.”

“No! Tell them…no time…tell them about the van…take him down first…Or else, my friends, they’ll… _Arin…_ ”

It’s too hard to keep fighting. Too hard. Dan’s sinking. He’s being dragged down, kicking and screaming. 

“It’s okay,” the man says. “Uh, it’s okay. Hold on. Just - stay still, probably, I don’t - ”

Dan’s vision is fading, but it’s not darkening to black. Everything is turning white. White - like light - like heaven - _am I dying? is this it? I’m not ready - I was so close -_ white tinged with red, red as deep as blood, Dan is being pulled downward - he wants to struggle, but the pain is fading, thank God, thank you God, let me go quick God - 

He can’t hold on. He’s done.

_Arin, I’ll wait for you._

Dan finally breaks and lets himself float away.


	10. 10

Dan comes to slowly, fuzzy-headed and floating, increasingly aware of stiffness and pressure on his leg. Instinct comes before recent memory. All at once, he’s back in the basement, alone, in the dark - and the black-haired man is crawling on top of him, pinning him to the bed. Blazing blue eyes burn behind his eyelids. 

_No, please, not again, it hurts too much…_

Dan tries to thrash, and his head lolls slightly to the side. He can barely move. Terror takes his breath away. 

The pain is quicker to wake than Dan himself; while he struggles to consciousness, there’s already flames licking at his arms, his hands, the old cuts at wrist and thigh and stomach. A brighter fire is kindling in his left leg. A cry rises in Dan’s throat, but his face won’t move. All that falls from is mouth is a whimper.

 _You sound so cute when you do that_.

Dan struggles for air, feeling like he’s trapped in molasses. There’s another, lighter pressure on his thigh - a hand - _don’t touch me_ \- but no, he has to be good. God, it hurts, but he has to be good and let it happen or they’ll hurt Arin again. 

_Arin…where’s Arin?_

The boss has him, the boss took him, and…God, how long has Arin been gone now? 

Dan realizes, with an odd jolt, that his sense of time is gone. Not just screwed, but _gone._ It feels like Arin had just been taken upstairs - but it also feels like days and days have passed. His stomach doesn‘t ache with hunger anymore, and his scalp doesn’t itch with a week’s worth of grease. It’s nice not to smell his own filth. It doesn’t smell like armpits and sweat and blood.

It doesn’t smell damp or mildewy either. Dan suddenly realizes that everything’s changed. The surface he’s laying on, the clothes he’s wearing, and the smell…it smells like floor cleaner, citrusy chemicals, burning-sweet rubbing alcohol. And something else, something deep-seated and smoky and familiar…

Dan’s mind makes hazy little jumps. _Someone’s here with me. Someone I know._

A woman is speaking, soft but precise, professional. A strange woman. Dan doesn’t know her. She doesn’t even seem to be talking to him. 

Dan’s confusion quells his panic but not the pain. _Where am I? Who are you?_ he tries to ask, but his brain can’t seem to communicate with his body. _Please help, my friends are going to die._

More touching, ropes around his wrist - no - they’re bandages. The person begins to speak again and even in his muddled state Dan picks up on the gentle tone and relaxes. The old, deep knife wound on his forearm is being bound in protective bandages. His thighs aren’t being pushed apart, his arms aren’t being held down, he doesn’t feel the cold kiss of a blade. Nobody is hurting him, at least not right now. 

_Arin? Suzy…?_

“Is he waking up?” a man asks. “How long can I stay here with him?”

Dan’s heart skips a beat. Something in him reaches out to that voice, crying out desperately, craving love and reassurance.

“It’s hard for me to say,” the woman touching Dan answers, gently. “Technically, visiting hours ended twenty minutes ago, but the current nursing director and I know the situation and I think that, in this case…given the circumstances…emotional support….” 

Her voice warbles in and out. Dan’s throat is tight and dry, his body flashing hot and cold, his brain racing at a million miles an hour, and there’s little bursts of memory coming to him as his faculties start to return. 

Smell of sage and dust and car exhaust, the dry cool desert night. The bleating of the train pounding away into the distance. His lungs on fire. The black-haired man trailing him like the shadow of death itself - holding a crowbar - the blood on the clawed end black beneath the streetlights. _His_ blood. The agony, the seemingly endless agony, the _headlights_ …

The weight of his best friends’ lives in his hands, oh, God, and now he can’t move to save them, to send for help, he can’t even - 

Dan opens his eyes.

The room is dim, the window black. _It’s still night?_ There are things he finds familiar, but his muddled mind can’t put the pieces together. His torn clothes are gone and he’s dressed in pale mint green. Flowy. A hospital gown. Everything around him is white and grey, down to the vertical blinds pulled almost all the way across the window. The door is cracked open and sickly fluorescent light is flowing through.

It’s very quiet. Almost eerily quiet. There’s noise, so faint, all around him - murmurs and footsteps and things being moved about, but it’s all so far from him. Dan isn’t in a small cramped basement anymore where the sound of his own heartbeat is a roar. He’s somewhere very spacious, and he’s glad for it.

He looks down at himself. There’s an IV in his hand, taped in place. His finger is in a splint and his knuckles are scraped raw. Bandages cover his arms. And his leg - 

His leg is indeed being held in place, but not by a person. A horrific metal contraption encases his knee. Three connected rings of metal, like a cage. From each ring, thick metal rods jut out like spokes on a bicycle wheel. The rods are sticking into his flesh. 

_Into the bone,_ Dan realizes with a sickening jolt, _they’re anchored into the bone._

He’d seen it before in movies…but seeing it on himself was way worse. Dan almost gags but fights it back. _Don’t look, don’t puke, don’t think about it…he‘ll be mad if you puke in the van_ …

But that wasn’t right. He wasn’t in the van…he was…it was obvious…

_Van? Wasn’t it a basement?_

A flash of being dragged upstairs by the hair, dragged outside, over the grass, fighting for his life.

Leaving Arin and Suzy behind to die.

And now, somehow, he’s in a hospital. 

Once the word occurs to him, he feels stupid for not understanding right away. The needles, the bed, the gown, the cage around his knee…

Dan closes his eyes again, but not by choice. His eyelids are so heavy, they almost slam shut. _They put me under._ Dan never took to anaesthetics; he always felt like he’d been hit by a car after.

In a haze of pain and discomfort and loneliness, Dan drifts, and thinks of Arin. 

And then, minutes later? - hours later? - he hears, “Danny?” 

Dan recognizes the voice. 

_Brian?_

“Please wake up,” Brian mutters, obviously to himself, “please be okay, Danny, please…I miss you so much.”

Dan’s never heard Brian like this before. He sounds soft, tender, and scared shitless. And while Brian was a multi-faceted man, and deeply in touch with his emotions, Dan had never known him to sound so broken. 

“Arin,” Dan slurs through lips that feel like rubber. He has to tell Brian. There’s still time to save them. If anyone can do it, Brian can.

He hears Brian’s loud exhale of relief, feels him take his hand. “No,” Brian says gently, “it’s Brian. You’re in the hospital, and you just came out of a long surgery, but you’re going to be okay. You’re gonna be okay, Danny.” He sounds hoarse, like he’d been crying.

Dan feels hope for the first time in what feels like weeks. Brian’s here. Brian’s here for him and he gets to see Brian again, he thought he never would. 

Dan finds the strength to open his eyes. 

And there’s Brian, sitting at the side of his bed, as close to Dan as he can get. 

Dan’s first thought is that Brian’s aged five years. His face is grey and his beard is more wild than Dan’s ever seen it. There are new lines in his forehead and beneath his eyes. And yet he still musters up a smile for Dan when their eyes meet.

“Brian,” Dan chokes out. “Brian…”

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, Danny. Take your time, it’s okay. You’ve been out for a really long time.”

“Arin,” Dan repeats, insistent. “They…they have him…they took him…Suzy, too, upstairs…” He’s not making sense. The exertion of speaking is almost too much for him. But he has to say it, he has to get it out. He knows now that he’s been here for at least a full day. It’s not _still_ night - that night is long gone. And now it might be too late. 

“Shh.” Brian gives Dan’s hand the gentlest little squeeze. “Danny, baby, it’s okay.”

“No,” Dan whimpers. “They’re going to…to kill them…”

“I promise it’s okay. They’re here too, in the hospital. Both of them. Suzy and Arin. You’re all being taken care of.”

The shock of that renders Dan speechless. He stares at Brian, clueless. Finally he manages, “How?”

Brian lets out a breath. He bends over the raised side of the hospital bed to lay his head on Dan’s pillow and kiss his temple. “Because of _you_ , Dan.”

“Me?” Dan asks foolishly. His face is warm where Brian kissed him. He wishes Brian could lay next to him…but there was that awful contraption on his leg, _in_ his leg, and probably Brian wasn’t allowed to get in the bed with him.. 

“You don’t remember?”

Dan shakes his head once and regrets it when the movement makes him dizzy.

“Do you remember where you were? How you were abducted?”

It hurts to remember his cowardice, how easy he’d made it for them. “They broke in my house, and took me…somewhere…with a big dark basement…”

“For some reason, they were moving you. Just you. One of the men was taking you up north in the back of a van. And you escaped. You were kidnapped, tied up and badly hurt, and you still managed to escape.”

That jogs a bit of Dan’s memory, but he’s still confused. “That sounds really badass.”

Brian laughs. It’s tinged with tears, more relief than amusement, but it’s laughter nonetheless. “Fuck, Dan, I missed you so much. I thought - I thought you were gone forever. I thought I lost you.”

Dan still feels loopy. “Nope. You found me.”

“Found you,” Brian agrees, and he makes a noise that could be either a laugh or a sob and leans in to wrap Dan in a half-hug. Dan closes his eyes and breathes in his smell, and all at once it hits him that the nightmare is over. Brian is here, and the nightmare is over.

But there are still so many questions. Dan scrambles to keep track of them all.

When they part, Dan asks, “But _how?_ How did I…escape? How am I here? I remember the van, but…” Things are coming back to him now, but he isn’t sure if he wants to know. “I didn’t know where he was taking me. I thought he was probably going to kill me.”

Dan can hear it when Brian’s breath gets stuck for a moment. Then he says, strained, “Is anything else coming back?”

“Some. Flashes. It’s…it hurts to try and think about it.” 

_You little FUCK, let’s see you try to run when I’m done with you._

And the crowbar came down, whistling through the air.

Dan shivers, bites his lip and forces it back. He looks at Brian for an explanation instead.

Brian says, “They said you broke out or fell out of the van somehow and flagged down a truck. Your hands were tied up and you were…you were in rough shape, and bleeding badly. You told the trucker who you were and that you had two friends being held captive, and you described the van you were in. He said it was incredible that you were coherent at all, with your leg being - well - ”

The memory was right there in his head all along. “I didn’t flag it down.” _I was dying in the middle of the road and he just happened to show up._ “That makes it sound cooler than it was. The man forgot to lock the back doors after - after we made another stop earlier. I noticed and waited until we stopped to get out. I didn’t know I was in the middle of nowhere. I was half out of my mind…”

“You were still able to tell the trucker to call 911, and he did. The cops found the van you mentioned, and it was full of…evidence of…being part of a major crime.” Brian swallows audibly. “They found the driver. The man who hurt you. Your blood was in the back and on a few weapons he had with him.”

_The crowbar…that knife…sharp enough to shave with…_

“But Arin and Suzy,” Dan interjects, interrupting his own thoughts. “How did they find them? Did - the man - did the cops make him talk about where…”

“They didn’t make him do anything. He spilled it all by himself. He was happy to throw most of the blame on his co-conspirators.”

“And he’s in jail now?” Dan whispers, hardly daring to believe it. “Are all of them in jail?”

Brian nods. “They’re going to be in jail until they die, Dan. You’re safe now, I promise. They’ll never touch you again.”

Dan looks back at him mutely. It still seems too fantastical to be real. But he hurts too much for this to be a dream, and Brian did not lie to him. It has to be real.

“You’re a hero, Dan,” Brian says bluntly. “You were amazing.”

Dan remembers sobbing, pleading, kicking weakly and considering surrender or suicide. He doesn’t feel like a hero. “No. I was just lucky.”

“You saved your friends’ lives. And your own. And who knows how many others.” Brian hesitates. “It wasn’t just you guys that they hurt. The list of charges against them is insane. They’re connected to murders, kidnappings and - other assaults - all over the state. In the house they found Arin and Suzy in, they found…remains, and a hard drive full of videos showing how they killed people. Some of the films were being sold on the dark web.”

“Snuff films.” Dan feels sick.

Brian grimaces and nods. 

Dan tries to ignore his nausea. “We knew. There were chains on the walls. Drains in the floor. They made jokes about the things they did before to scare us.”

He’s shivering, and he doesn’t notice it until Brian says softly, “Hey, hey, do you want to stop talking about this for now?”

Dan doesn’t know what he wants anymore. But his mouth is opening by itself, and words are spilling out. “The men, they…they did things to us, they hurt us so badly, for fun…me and Arin…Suzy was somewhere else, kept upstairs. They threatened to kill her.” Dan’s starting to lose his coherency. “They threatened to kill all of us….to make us do horrible things…and Arin, he…they…they _tortured_ him, Brian.” 

Brian’s hands shake. “Maybe you should rest, Danny. We can talk about everything that happened later. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

Dan stubbornly goes on anyway. “Arin was the hero. Not me. He was a hero the whole time. They hurt him worse but he didn’t fight it so they wouldn’t hurt me instead.”

Brian lets go of Dan’s hand and strokes his hair instead. “You were both brave as hell. All three of you were brave.”

“I wouldn’t have escaped. I wouldn’t have had the nerve, ‘cept I knew Arin would do it for me. He’d do anything for me and I had to escape for him.” Dan’s weary to the bone, and the pain in his knee is growing worse by the minute. 

Brian notices Dan’s eyelids drooping and the strain on his face. “If you’re tired, you should sleep. I won’t go far. I’ll be back to see you as soon as I can.”

“Wait,” Dan says weakly. “Arin. I have to see him.” 

“You have to stay in your room,” Brian tells him gently. “You have to stay in the bed, with your leg held still. The pins are holding the bone in place and - ”

“Can he come here?” Dan interrupts. “I don’t care if I’m tired. Wake me up again if I fall asleep.”

“Arin has to stay where he is, too.”

Dan remembers what the black-haired man had said to him. _He was screaming for it to stop…_ “Oh, God, Brian, what did they do to him? Is he okay?”

Brian’s face changes, and Dan falters. 

“Brian…?”

“I’ll send along a message to Arin,” Brian answers after a beat. “It’s just that he’s only allowed one visitor at a time right now, and only for a few minutes each time, and Suzy’s with him now…”

“How is he doing?” Dan’s heart beats faster. “Brian? Did he have surgery, too?”

Again, the pause is way too long.

“It’s…sort of an ongoing situation,” Brian says haltingly. 

“Brian, he isn’t…it’s not…serious, is it?”

“He’s going to be okay.” There’s a catch in Brian’s voice that makes Dan want to scream in fear.

“You’re lying to me,” Dan whispers. Brian doesn’t lie to him, not ever. “Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not lying to you. I wouldn’t do that.”

“You _are_ , fuck, Brian please don’t - ”

“Hey, hey,” Brian quickly leans forward as Dan tries to lift his upper body from the bed. “Please stay still, don’t hurt yourself.”

There are tears in Dan’s eyes. He blinks them back savagely. “I don’t give a shit about hurting myself! I just want to know where Arin is!”

“Dan, listen. No matter what happens, Arin is going to survive this.”

“What do you mean, no matter what happens?!”

Brian doesn’t answer right away. He tries to take Dan’s hand again, but Dan rips it away from him. 

“Tell me,” Dan says hoarsely. 

Brian looks at the hand that Dan had pushed away. Dan doesn’t have time to feel guilty at the hurt on Brian’s face. 

“Tell me right now. The _truth._ No lies, no bullshit.”

“No lies,” Brian agrees after a beat. He makes a fist to stop the shaking. “Arin’s… having problems with his arm. It was broken, and badly.”

Dan dares to relax a fraction of an inch. “That’s it? I mean - that’s awful, but - Arin’s so strong, you know him. That will heal.”

“There’s another problem, though,” Brian goes on, slowly, not looking at Dan. “We’re not sure how bad it is yet. He’s in intensive care right now and they’re keeping him as comfortable as possible. They had a few doctors check him out and they’re not all agreeing with each other. They’re about to try something soon - a surgical procedure - but most of the doctors feel that...it would be safer, if they…if they just…”

“If they what?” Dan wants to shake him. “Brian!”

Brian looks Dan in the eye, but drops his gaze just before he says, “If they go ahead and amputate.”


	11. 11

Dan goes ice cold all over. For a long moment he can’t even speak. He wonders if he’d misheard.

_This can’t be real. I’m hallucinating. The drugs are making me hear things, or…or something..._

But the look on Brian’s haggard face tells Dan the truth. 

“Amputate,” Dan repeats, the word sounding so horrible and _final_ in his mouth. “You mean…amputate…his _arm_?” 

“Yes.” Brian’s voice shakes. “Dan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to tell you until you were feeling better.”

“Which arm?” Dan asks thickly, stupidly. God, does it even matter?

“His right.” 

“Oh, God.” _Why him? Why does this have to fucking happen to him?_ “It was just - broken?” Dan’s voice rises in pitch. “Why…why would they have to fucking - cut it off?” He doesn’t sound anything like himself, but he doesn’t understand and it‘s making him want to scream. “People break bones all the fucking time!”

“There’s this condition called compartment syndrome,” Brian explains quietly. “The break was serious enough to put pressure on the muscle compartments. The pressure affects the blood vessels and nerves, and it can cause gangrene and kidney failure and a bunch of other problems. They‘re trying this surgery where they cut the connective tissue to release the pressure…”

“The connective tissue?”

“Basically like a layer around the muscle. It holds the muscles and other stuff - tendons and ligaments and such - together. The procedure is called a fasciotomy.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” Dan tries not to think about the surgeons and their sharp blades, slicing Arin up like meat. _I take good care of my knives. It’s so sharp, you don’t even feel it go in._

“Then they know for sure that they need to amputate.”

Dan had asked for no bullshit, and Brian’s giving it to him straight. Dan appreciates that, but he still wants to cry. He makes himself man up and try to discuss this on Brian‘s level - calm, mature, direct. “Did they say how likely it is that the surgery will fix - the condition you said?”

Brian shakes his head. “They may have told Suzy more. I’m not family, they’re not sharing Arin’s medical information with me. But I’ve been researching it.”

“And?”

“Usually, it has a success rate of around sixty-five percent.”

“Sixty-five percent,” Dan repeats. He doesn’t know what else to say. That number didn’t seem nearly high enough. “So there’s still a thirty-five percent chance that they’ll have to…”

“Dan…” Brian’s mouth twists. “I don’t want to discourage you, or be negative, but… keep in mind that this is just what I found online. And Arin’s case is…different. That success rate might be a lot lower. And even if he keeps the arm, there’s a big chance he’ll never regain full function in it.”

 _He’s not going to be able to draw ever again. He won’t be able to hold a controller. He won’t be able to hold me in his arms, pick me up and swing me in a circle…_

Dan squeezes his eyes shut. He can hold back the tears, but not the sob that rips through his chest. 

Brian exhales roughly. “Don’t, Danny, please don’t cry. Fuck.”

“Like I can fucking help it!” Dan snaps at him. 

His brief anger fades when he sees the awful look of guilt on Brian’s face.

“I shouldn’t have told you,” Brian shakes his head. “This is the last thing you need right now. Danny, listen to me. They’re doing all they can for Arin. It’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” Dan mumbles. He’s dizzy again, but fighting it. He doesn’t want to sleep. Maybe he’ll wake up and even worse news will be waiting for him.

“Arin’s dealing with it well. He’s in and out of consciousness, but when he’s awake he’s aware of what’s going on, and making jokes about it. I was able to talk to him. He said he doesn’t care about anything as long as you and Suzy are okay.”

That just makes Dan’s heart ache worse. It’s such an Arin thing to say - of course he’d be selfless, even when he was facing the loss of a limb. 

“What else did he say?” Dan manages. His stomach feels hollow.

“That he loves you,” Brian says, leaning over to brush a stray curl from Dan’s forehead. “That he can’t wait to see you. And that you’re amazing.”

Dan lets that sink in, filling him with warmth. “I can’t wait to see him, too.”

“He knows what you did for him and Suzy. Suzy said to give you all her love.”

Dan leans into the affectionate touch, craving love and reassurance. “But I wasn’t fast enough. Maybe Arin’s arm would have been fine if I’d tried harder to escape.” _I should have run the first time I had a chance, the first time he pulled me out of the van. I could have grabbed his knife. I could have done something more…_

“Dan,” Brian says, exasperated. 

“I could have. I didn’t even notice the door was open for hours. The lock was right by my feet.”

“You were distracted. You were tied up in a van.”

“But - ”

“You’re a hero, okay? Deal with it.”

Dan sure doesn’t feel like one. “I’m not.”

“Don’t argue with me. Not about this.”

“I’m not arguing, you’re just wrong.”

Brian’s mouth twitches. “You saved two lives,” Brian says firmly. “Suzy is alive because of you. And Arin’s alive because of you. They’re doing all they can to save his arm. If they can’t, they’ll save his life. That’s what’s important.” 

“But what if - ”

“He can live just fine without his arm, Dan. He has his friends and family to support him. He’ll do just fine. ”

“But he doesn’t deserve this,” Dan inhales sharply as a fresh stab of grief cuts through him at the thought of Arin trying to learn how to do his job or live his every day life without his dominant arm. “Not him, not Arin…oh, God, _why?_ ”

Brian’s voice breaks. “I don’t know, Danny. None of you deserved this. They put you through hell and I wish I could murder all three of them slowly. Jail is too good for them.”

There’s a beat of silence. Dan swallows. He’s never heard Brian sound so cold before. He doesn’t want to ask, but he has to.

“Do you know…what they did? Why they took us?”

Brian’s face struggles to remain calm. Dan can see the muscles twitching beneath the mask. “I don’t know the details of what they did,” Brian says, slow and careful. “I can infer…from some of the news stories released about the house you were kept in…and the criminal histories of your captors…”

Brian’s not looking directly at him, but Dan can sense that he’s being looked at from Brian’s peripherals. He’s watching Dan’s reactions too closely, and Dan already feels the urge to clam up before he starts spilling his guts. Once he starts talking, he won’t stop, and he’s not ready to deal with the flood of memories - or Brian’s horror at the extent of the torture they had endured. 

So instead Dan just says, unsteadily, “I think I’ll puke if I think about it right now.”

“Okay,” Brian says softly. “That’s okay, Dan.”

“I just. Wanted to know if you knew, that it was - it wasn’t about ransom money, or, anything like that.”

Brian nods and rubs his mouth with the back of his hand. “I know.”

“That’s why it’s not fair, that Arin might…might lose his arm. It’s not fair. He went through so much…and…it’s not his fault.”

“None of you are at fault, Danny. None of you asked for this.”

_Watched you shaking your hips on stage like a fucking slut, wearing that tight spandex. You were begging for it, weren’t you?_

“You were so brave,” Brian tells him warmly. Then he pauses. “Danny, hey, are you okay? You look like you’re going to - ”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I have to -” 

Dan barely has enough time to turn his head to the side and vomit over the edge of the bed. 

He can’t move his legs and he can’t lean over far enough and his arm hurts and his head hurts and his throat burns like fire and he’s crying again, crying with pain.

_So much for brave._

Brian jumps up from his seat and presses the red emergency call button. “I’ll get a nurse, Danny, don’t worry, just get it all up. Hold on, they’ll get you cleaned up.”

Dan barely hears him over the sound of his own retching. His head is spinning and everything hurts and the blackness is eating at the corners of his vision, pulling him into the void. 

Dan resists the pull. He swallows back the burning flood and manages to say, between heaves, “Don’t leave me.”

Brian’s voice starts to warble in and out again, but Dan hears, “I won’t, Danny. I won’t leave you alone here. If they make me leave I’ll be back. I love you. It’s going to be okay.”

Brian doesn’t lie to him, but Dan doesn’t believe him this time. Nothing is going to be okay unless Arin makes it through this, both arms intact. And that doesn’t sound likely. 

Dan heaves again, and suddenly there’s a warm wet cloth cleaning his face and chest, his old gown being slipped off and replaced with a fresh one that still smells faintly of bleach and detergent. It’s all done so quickly that he doesn’t feel the moment when he’s naked, which is probably a good thing. Dan’s not sure he could handle being naked in front of a stranger, even though the hospital staff had already seen him undressed. 

He doesn’t see the nurse that comes in and prepares the trimethobenzamide injection, but he feels the light sting and immediate rush of relief. The nausea subsides and Dan sags limply against his pillow, exhausted.

“Brian,” he mouths, his voice too weak to escape his throat. His arm only twitches when he tries to reach for Brian’s hand.

“I’m right here, Danny. Do you need something?” Brian strokes Dan’s knuckles with his thumb.

Dan needs a lot of things. He needs sleep, more pain meds, probably a sponge bath or ten. He needs his family. His phone would be nice. But most of all he needs - 

“Arin,” he breathes, and this time he lets go and tumbles back into unconsciousness.

**

Her tears were unpredictable. 

She’d stopped trying to hide them and started keeping a roll of coarse industrial toilet paper from the hospital bathroom at her side. 

In order to function, Suzy had tried to take all the memories of the last week and shove them behind a brick wall in her mind. They wouldn’t stay there forever, but maybe they would be held back just long enough to deal with things at the hospital. Once Arin was safe, and they were home, she could let herself crumble. 

_Just a little while longer…_

But nobody would let her forget. Nobody would give her a break. Strangers touched her, examined her, made her open her legs so they could collect evidence with a cotton swab. 

Apparently, being kidnapped and tortured by a small gang of serial rapists and killers wasn’t _evidence_ enough. No, they needed proof, needed Suzy to tell them exactly what happened as they made notes with dispassionate faces. 

Suzy becomes aware that her face is wet. She reaches automatically for another handful of toilet paper to mop her eyes and nose.

The door of the waiting room opens with a quiet whoosh of air. Suzy cringes instinctively but relaxes when she sees the man standing in front of her.

“Brian,” she manages, trying to swallow back the tears. Her eyes feel raw and puffy from crying, and the smile she gives him is probably grotesque. “Hi. I thought you’d be with Dan for a while.”

“He’s asleep again. The nurse asked me to leave so they can attend to some things that require privacy for him.”

“Oh,” she says lamely. She tries not to think about Dan, the man who saved her life, alone and scared. “I’ll come see him too, as soon as…as soon as I can leave Arin.” 

“He’ll like that.” Brian nods at the empty seats like they belonged to her. “Do you want company, or do you want me to go get you something from Starbucks?”

“Stay with me,” she says. Brian would be a welcome distraction from her morbid thoughts. She’d made the mistake of Googling _fasciotomy_. “Please.”

Brian’s soft, reassuring presence is a comfort. He takes a seat in a chair across from her. “How are you doing?”

It’s not a meaningless pleasantry when it comes from Brian. Suzy knows he means it.

“The best I can,” she answers honestly. “I’m okay for now, I think. Well, not okay, but - I’m surviving. I’m just - anxious. Scared.”

“For Arin?”

“For Arin, and Dan. And myself.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I don‘t know how long I can keep going like this,” she admits. She hadn’t been able to tell her family that, not even Jean. “The cops want to interview me again, and I’ll have to tell the story over and over, and the Internet knows because we were on the news and we’ll have to make up something to tell _them_ …and then there’s my siblings and Arin’s family and all of our friends… ”

“You won’t have to do any of that alone.”

“I know. It’s just - it’s hard, Brian.”

“One day at a time, Suze. For now, just keep surviving.”

She takes a deep breath. “One day at a time,” she agrees. 

Physically, she was mostly fine - she had a mild concussion, some scrapes and bruises, and had been dehydrated when they brought her in. Mentally…well, she hadn’t had time to think about that. She didn’t want to think about that. She’d think about herself once Arin was okay. 

Brian nods at her hand. “What happened there?”

“Nothing.”

He raises an eyebrow.

Suzy makes a noise that was intended to be a laugh. “Really. It’s nothing. Arin looks like he went through a fucking meat grinder and you want me to complain about one little bandage?”

Brian doesn’t tell her to calm down, which was a good choice. He just says, “I care about you too, Suze. Your suffering isn’t any less because you don’t have as many physical injuries.”

“It’s just my fingernail,” she mutters, flushing when she realizes that Brian must know at least some of what the men had done to them. “I ripped one off. It’ll be fine. They just bandaged it for me.”

“ _You_ ripped one off?”

All of her nails are ripped and jagged, her knuckles raw and scabbed. She had clawed at the wooden door frame with her bare hands when she heard Arin screaming. “I didn’t really feel it when it happened. I was terrified. They were…”

Brian is patient. He doesn’t press her for details, but keeps his body language open, inviting further discussion.

Suzy swallows. She could do this. She could tell Brian. It had been harder to tell the police, and she’d made it through that. It had been hard to tell her sister, and she’d done that, too. She could do it again. Maybe it would be easier this time.

“I could hear them hurting Arin,” she finally says. “I was locked in a room, and Arin had been kept in the basement with Dan. They brought Arin upstairs, to…to do stuff to him, and…I heard him yelling and - and begging. I tried to get out, to make them stop, or something, and I was hitting the door as hard as I could and he just got louder and louder and I - I - ” Her throat closes up and her head spins.

“Breathe,” Brian interjects. 

She stops and takes his suggestion. Eventually her throat loosens and she can speak again.

“I just wanted to make them stop,” she finishes faintly. “I would have done anything. I just wanted them to stop hurting him. And they wouldn’t. It went on and on…Brian, they were _monsters_ , you can’t imagine. The things they did - how badly they hurt Arin…and then we thought we lost Dan…”

Brian reaches out to her, placing his hand inches from her less injured one. After a moment, Suzy puts her own hand on top of his. 

His voice is quiet when he speaks again. “The doctors checked you over too, right?”

She grimaces, remembering the invasive exam she’d submitted to. “Yes. I just have some bruises. I’ll have to come back later, so they can take blood and let me know if - ” Her jaw snaps shut.

Brian says, “You can trust me, Suzy. You can tell me anything. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

She looks at Brian’s face, seeing the genuine concern written clearly in his tired eyes. Brian had been a good friend - a wonderful friend. He’d been here at the hospital since they’d arrived, and hadn’t left even to feed himself. 

So she just comes out and says it.

“They’ll have to check to see if I’m pregnant.”

To his credit, Brian stays calm, though he can see the impact of her words. “No matter what happens, it’s your choice to do anything you want to do.”

“You knew.”

“I knew what?”

“You knew that they - that he - raped me.” She almost says _us_ , but she doesn’t want to speak for anybody else.

Brian says, “I didn’t know. I suspected, but I didn’t know. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

That throws her off. None of the doctors had thanked her for being strong enough to tell them. The officer who questioned her hadn’t thanked Suzy for trusting her. It makes Suzy feel more in control. Her chest loosens up.

“Thank you for being here,” is her best response. “Really. It means a lot.” She likes that Brian isn’t weepy like her family had been. It helps to keep her own tears at bay.

“I’m here as long as you need me,” he tells her. “You can talk as much or as little about what happened. Just know that I want to listen and help however I can.”

“I want to talk about it,” Suzy admits. “Eventually. I just - right now, I can’t think about anything except Arin. And Dan, of course. Was he asleep when you saw him, or did you get to talk to him?”

“He was pretty exhausted,” says Brian. He pulls a plastic water bottle from the pocket of his jacket and starts to pick at the paper label. “They had just finished up the surgery on his knee. He wasn’t supposed to have any visitors yet, but the nurse thought he could use the emotional support.”

“They haven’t told me anything about him, except that he wasn’t in critical condition,” Suzy says, anxious. “Arin kept trying to ask them for details but they were being so vague.”

“Dan’s going to be okay,” Brian says, even as his fingers continue to pick restlessly at the water bottle. 

“Thank God.” She doesn’t think she could hold herself together if they lost Dan now, after he saved them but before either of them could thank him for it. “Isn’t he hurt badly, though? Arin said…”

“He has a long recovery time ahead of him, but nothing life-threatening. His ribs are cracked, his finger is broken, and the cut on his stomach was infected. All of that will heal up easily. The scarring might not be pretty, but that’s not a huge concern. His leg is the worst. The bottom part of his femur and his knee were broken by blunt force trauma, like he was beaten with an object - they found a crowbar in the van. The skin around it was so badly damaged they couldn’t even put him in a cast.”

 _What kind of sick fuck could attack Dan with a crowbar?_ Suzy wonders, but she already knows the answer. All three of their captors were sick in the head. She still remembers the feeling of hot breath on her ear as her keeper whispered details of the horrific sex acts forced on Arin while violating her. These were the men that threw her husband down the stairs and laughed about it. Suzy wasn’t naïve, and knew that evil existed in the world, but never had she personally come so close to it. 

“Dan’s so brave,” she murmurs. “After everything they did…while he knew what they were capable of…”

“I know. He’s pretty incredible.” Brian smiles faintly. “He doesn’t realize how incredible he is.”

“He saved us.”

“I kept telling him that,” Brian agrees, “but he says he only did it because Arin’s bravery inspired him.”

Suzy feels her heart thump. “Oh, Danny…oh, God, if his leg does the same thing as Arin’s arm I won’t be able to stand it -”

Brian quickly shakes his head. “It won’t. It’s not as bad as Arin’s situation. It _looks_ bad right now, but his prognosis is good. Compartment syndrome isn’t a common problem.”

“So Arin was just unlucky.”

Brian winces. “Well, yes. They think he might have broken the arm with his own body weight, falling on it. Crush injuries are more likely to lead to compartment syndrome.”

In her head, Suzy sees Arin sprawled on the ground again. The heart-stopping moment when she’d thought he was dead. His arm bent and bulging…Suzy kneeling next to him, reaching to feel his pulse, but she was shaking too hard to keep two fingers still on his pale neck…

She hurriedly changes the subject. “How is Dan otherwise?” She doesn’t want to say _mentally_ , but she also doesn’t want to dance around the topic.

Brian frowns slightly. “He was confused about where he was when he first woke up, but then he seemed coherent enough. But I’m not sure he realized how badly hurt he is. He didn’t ask about himself. He just wanted to know about you and Arin.”

“And did you tell him? About Arin?”

“I wasn’t planning to.” Brian grimaces.

“He could tell something was wrong.”

“Yes. I didn’t want to upset him, but I can’t lie to him either.”

“How did he take it?”

Brian shakes his head. “Not very well. He blames himself for not escaping quickly enough.”

“That’s _ridiculous_ ,” Suzy exclaims. “That he managed to run at all is incredible. Arin said they were barely fed. He must have been so weak and tired and hurt.”

“I told him he was being ridiculous, too. I think he was just in shock. It hasn’t fully sunk in yet.”

Suzy gives a rueful half-smile. “I think I know what that’s like.”

“Yeah?”

“I still wonder if this is a dream. I keep thinking I’ll wake up and be back in that room again.” _Waiting naked on the bed, hearing the footsteps coming closer, dreading the sound of the door rattling as the locks were opened._

Suzy grimaces and clutches her stomach.

“Are you okay?”

 _Think about something else._ “I’m fine. What else did Dan say?”

Brian doesn’t push it, just goes with the flow. “Not much. He felt nauseated and I called a nurse to help him. Then he passed out, and the nurse made me leave.” His face trembles. “I told him I wouldn’t leave him, but they said I had to.”

It’s Suzy’s turn to comfort him. “You’ll be back as soon as you can. I bet Dan will sleep for a really long time anyway.”

“I know. I just - fuck.” Brian turns his face away and wipes his eyes on his sleeve. “Sorry. I thought I was done crying for today.”

“It’s okay, Brian, you’re allowed to cry.” Suzy had bawled for the better part of an hour after the doctor looked at Arin’s arm and shook his head, then pointed to the place on his shoulder where the cut would have to be made. Arin had managed to look the doctor in the eye as he explained that a cosmetic prosthetic would be easier than a functional one, since it would have to be extremely heavy and ungainly and could damage his shoulder and collarbone. 

“Do you think we could find one that looks like the Winter Soldier?” Arin had asked Suzy with a little grin, and the doctor had smiled indulgently.

Suzy had smiled too but hers felt painted on. She had held it together while Arin was still awake. She needed to be supportive. Arin needed to know that Suzy would be tough and take care of him. He needed her now more than ever.

 _Please be okay, Arin,_ Suzy prays. _And Danny, you too. We can’t do this without you._

Brian blows his nose on the tissue Suzy offers him and straightens his back. “How long until Arin gets out of surgery?”

She glances at the clock. The second hand is moving so slowly it’s surreal. _Forty-three minutes and twenty-five seconds,_ she thinks, but says, “Forty-five minutes.”

“They said I could go back and see Dan in half an hour. I’ll spend some time with him, and that will give you time to be alone with Arin. Then I’ll come down and see you both, and update you guys on how Dan’s doing.”

“That sounds great,” she says, wanly.

“Should I leave you alone for a bit? Or walk with you somewhere?”

Suzy doesn’t know what she wants. But maybe it wouldn’t be good for her to sit here and go crazy crying and staring at the clock. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Standing up makes her feel a little more human. So does the sunshine streaming in through the massive windows of the atrium. Suzy had missed the sun so much.

They hear footsteps ahead. Suzy flinches, but she doesn’t stop walking, doesn’t miss a stride. It’s a couple walking hand-in-hand. The woman gives Suzy a smile that she actually manages to return.

Once they pass, she lets out the breath she’d been holding. Brian’s looking at her in concern, so she says, “Sorry. I just have to remember how to be a normal human being.”

“Were you ever a normal human being?”

The sound of her own laughter almost surprises her. It’s not even that funny but she appreciates Brian’s effort. She doesn’t have a clever comeback, but says, “You know what I mean.”

“One day at a time,” Brian reminds her. “You’re doing amazing already.”

She feels a warmth in her chest. So many people believe in her. Jean, chiefly. Arin. And now Brian too. Maybe they were right. Maybe she could hold on.

_One day at a time._


	12. 12

Arin opens his eyes and blinks, realizing that he’s alone in his room for once. 

He looks around slowly, listening to the faint sounds of traffic far below his window. The solitude is disconcerting. Arin feels strange, like he can’t find himself. He feels like his emotions are broken. Everything that he _should_ be feeling just - isn’t there. 

He should be feeling relief, maybe residual fear, maybe happiness at seeing his family again. Suzy was in decent physical condition, and Dan was going to recover from all of his injuries, too. Even Arin’s cats had been taken in and cared for by a neighbour after they climbed out through the broken window to wander down the boulevard. Everything was going to be okay, and that was all Arin should want.

He should be feeling a lot of things. But he only feels weak.

Dan had been tied up in a van and likely tortured, almost definitely raped, and he’d figured out when and how to run - and fought, too, fought against an armed man, long enough to save himself and still have time to tell someone about Arin and Suzy.

And yet Arin, presented with his traumatized and beaten wife forced into wearing lingerie for her captors’ amusement, had done nothing but cry and submit to the boss’s sick needs.

And it had taken his brother to go to his house, fix the window and install a home security system with a silent alarm and cameras out front. Something that Arin could have done, _should_ have done. His dad suggested getting a gun, and that suddenly seemed really fucking obvious. Hell, the Grumps’ office had more security than the house where his wife slept. 

Everything that Arin should have done, he failed to do. 

He hadn’t been alone much since his rescue. Suzy had been by his side almost constantly, just as she had been in their last fifteen hours in the basement. Neither of the men had come to touch them. The door at the top of the stairs had opened twice, as if someone was making sure they were still there, but that was it. What Arin remembered most about that last day was deciding that he was likely going to die first, and practicing what he would say to Suzy when the end seemed near. Even then, he could tell there was something very wrong with his arm besides the snapped bone. It had felt hot and electric - a separate feeling than the agonizing pain - and then, alarmingly, completely numb in places. Suzy had stroked the back of his hand and Arin watched her do it and felt nothing.

And then, as Arin’s mind had grown hazy, a burst of noise rattled through the ceiling. Bangs and curses, and then a gunshot. Suzy had moaned in terror and buried her face in his neck. _I love you,_ he had said, thinking maybe this was it. _I will always love you._

Everything from then on was a blur. 

They let Suzy and Arin share an ambulance. Arin was sweating and groaning with pain, barely able to think straight, and Suzy was talking to him the entire way. _I love you too, Arin, I always will, please stay with us, please stay with me I can’t lose you I can’t_ \- and Arin was trying to talk but couldn’t, just thinking to himself _she’s safe, that’s all I care about, she’s safe, someone take care of her for me please_ …

He can’t remember who told them that it was Dan who saved them. It might have been one of the nurses who came to gently break Suzy’s iron hold on him so they could examine her. It might have been one of the officers in the parade of people that swarmed into the hospital room. All he knew was that it was Brian - Brian, looking like he’d aged ten years - who came in fog to tell him that Dan was being prepped for surgery, but was going to be okay. And Brian - trustworthy, reliable Brian - was the one who drove the truth home in a way that strangers couldn’t.

Even as the doctor looked Arin in the eye and told him that they were likely going to have to amputate his arm, all Arin could think was _it’s all going to be okay._ Dan and Suzy were going to live, and that was miracle enough for him.

Now, he looks at his right arm and imagines himself without it. It doesn’t seem real. How was he supposed to support his family and friends, and protect them, without his arm?

A soft knock comes at the door, breaking Arin’s train of thought.

“Come in,” Arin calls automatically. 

He expects to see his brother or mom or dad again, but it’s Brian that pokes his head through his door, his placid face grey and tired. 

“Is this a good time?”

“As good as any, I guess.”

Brian pushes the door open and comes into the room to sit at Arin’s bedside. His hands fold in his lap and Arin sees that his nails are chewed down right to the nail bed. Arin had never known Brian to be a nail-biter. 

_He must have thought we were dead,_ Arin thinks. He tries to imagine himself in Brian’s position. Arin had endured one day of thinking Dan was gone forever. Brian had gotten through four. No wonder he looks so haggard.

“I brought you some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

Brian opens a reusable grocery bag. “Some books. My laptop. Phone charger like you asked for. Some cards. Audrey drew you a pink tiger.”

“A tiger?”

“She’s going through another phase. We watched a documentary on tiger conservation.”

“Gotta protect the last of the pink tigers.”

Brian grins tiredly. “She said that it had to be your favourite colour because you should do nice things for people when they’re sad.”

That hits Arin in the heart harder than he would have expected and he softens. “Tell her thank you for me. I’ll take her to the zoo when I’m better.” 

“She’d love that.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Only that you and Dan are sick. But she’s smart, you know? She knows more than she should.”

“She’s upset?”

“She got mad when I said she couldn’t come see Danny. I don’t want to have her see his leg just yet.”

“Suzy told me. She said they have metal pins screwed into the bone.”

Brian nods. “They couldn’t put a cast on him with that amount of damage to the skin. Once the swelling and bruising go down, it will be easier to look at. For now…well…”

“It’s that bad?”

“It’s pretty bad,” Brian answers, his tone subdued. “I just keep thinking about how hard he must have been hit, how much it hurt…”

Arin remembers one of the nightmares he’d had after learning what happened to Dan. Arin had been sleeping in short twenty-minute bursts, just long enough for the terror to creep in. In his dream, Dan had been in the basement again, and Arin had been lying on the bed, both arms gone, helpless. The men all had crowbars, and they were beating Dan bloody. Dan was looking at him beseechingly, begging, _Arin, I’m scared, it hurts so bad, please help me_ , but Arin says nothing, does nothing. Then the crowbars came down on his head, splitting it open like a pumpkin dropped off an overpass, and Arin stares into Dan’s dead wide eyes and finds his voice just in time to scream.

“Arin?”

He snaps back to find Brian looking at him with concern. “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“Pass.”

“Arin.”

“Just - thinking about a dream I had. It doesn’t matter.”

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been having those, too.”

Arin looks at the bags beneath Brian’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“Every night since I found out the three of you were gone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Brian’s able to look him full in the face when he asks, “How does your arm feel?”

“Did you ever see that Japanese horror movie where the girl saws through the paralyzed guy’s ankle with a piano wire?”

“I don’t think so.” Brian’s looking at the line of stitches that runs from Arin’s wrist to elbow. “But I can imagine how much it hurts.”

They had opened up his arm like a big split sausage and sliced him to the bone. They had sewn him back up again, but from the way it burned, it felt like his arm had been flayed, left open, and then doused in vinegar. The pain meds pumping through his IV helped, but even the strongest meds couldn’t dull the pain entirely. 

“It’s ugly, I know. They’re gonna do skin grafts, if - ” Arin’s brain stutters over that part and he stops mid-sentence. “How’s Dan doing?”

“He’s good. Sleepy but good.”

“Is he in pain?”

Brian pauses, and Arin’s stomach twists even before he speaks. “He puked when I was in there with him after the surgery,” Brian admits, “and that seemed to be pretty rough for him, but other than that he seems okay. He’s anxious about you.”

“Tell him not to be.”

“I tried. You ever try telling Dan to stop worrying about someone he loves?”

 _He loves me._ Arin knows that, but it makes him feel better just hearing it from Brian. “Any other news?”

“He woke up again a little while ago and was able to talk to his family and a couple of his friends on the phone. They’re flying down now. He’s had a few visitors. Ross even managed to make him laugh.”

“I want to see him too.” Arin says, frustrated. “Nobody will let me go see him. I tried to get up, but I ripped my IV halfway out.”

Brian winces. “Be careful, Arin. Dan’s not going anywhere.” 

“I know, but - fuck, Brian, he saved my fucking life. ”

Brian reaches out and squeezes Arin’s good hand. “You have all the time in the world to spend with him once you feel better.”

Arin thinks of the long hours spent with Dan at work, listening to him laugh, joking and horsing around. It’s hard to really believe that he can have that again. 

Arin blinks, and his tear gets caught in his eyelashes, blurring his vision. “Did Barry stop in to see him too?” he asks, his voice thick.

“He did. It was good to see him again. He was here, too?”

“We hung out for a good two hours. Together we managed to convince Suzy to go to Starbucks with him, get some fresh air. They came back with Wendy’s for me.”

“She can go home whenever she wants, right?”

“I’m still working on that. She doesn’t want to leave.”

“Well,” Brian says, “make sure she knows that if she needs a ride, I’m there. I can get Rachel to bring her some real food, too. For all of you. You better be eating something other than hospital food and Wendy’s.” 

“Yes, _dad_ ,” Arin punts back, and for a moment he feels like his old self again when Brian laughs.

It doesn’t last long, though. Brian leans back a little in his seat and looks at his lap. “So, the cops want to talk to you.”

“I know.”

“They were here already?”

“They tried to come in when my mom was here.”

“Tried?”

“She wouldn’t let them in. Said I wasn’t ready.”

“Are you ready now?” 

“Fuck no.”

Brian just looks at him for a long minute, then says, “They already tried to speak with Dan. They got him right after they changed his bandages and Dan was in too much pain to talk.”

Arin bristles. “What the fuck, why are they bothering him?” The hospital bed ripples beneath him and he winces. It moved automatically to prevent bedsores, and while that was certainly very good for bedridden patients, it kept bumping Arin’s arm out of its only non-agonizing position. 

“These guys who kidnapped you are a pretty big deal.”

“So?”

“You’re the first survivors. They want to learn more about what they did to you.”

“Isn’t it obvious? They took us, they hurt us, now we’re here. Lock them up for the rest of their lives and hope someone shanks them in the prison yard.”

“They’re still looking for more bodies,” Brian says, softly. “The cops want to know more about how they choose people, how they made the grab, stuff like that. It can help them in their investigation.”

“They can fucking wait.”

“They won’t, Arin.”

Arin grinds his teeth. “Fine. I’ll do it, then. Let Dan rest.” He isn’t going to let anyone bother Dan or Suzy if he can manage it.

“They left a number to call.”

“I’ll call - in a bit. Just let me - ” Arin flounders, fishing for an excuse.

“You really want to wait? Let yourself think about it?”

Brian has a point. “I guess not.”

“You want me to make the call for you?”

Arin closes his eyes. He thinks of Dan, hurt and sick, the cops hurling questions at him as Dan tries not to puke again. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Brian lays his hand on Arin’s good arm. “You can do this,” he says, and Arin wishes he could believe it.

**

The officers asked a lot of questions. Arin was prepared for that.

What he wasn’t prepared for was how much he’d cry.

The officers don’t seem to mind his tears. They lower their eyes whenever he mops his eyes and nose. Arin isn’t sure if the gesture makes him feel better or worse. 

They were courteous, at least. They introduced themselves by their first and last names, like they were new friends, and one of them smiled and said, “I understand that this is a difficult time for you, Mr. Hanson, but my partner and I would like to ask you a few questions.”

Arin doesn’t believe it. They don’t know - have no idea. And _they_ got to leave this hell at the end of the day, take all the horror and put it aside and enjoy their homes and families. He reaches for a Kleenex and jostles his bad arm, and has to struggle to hold back a scream.

One of the officers notices his obvious pain and says, “We could speak to Miss Berhow first, if you would like another hour or so to recover from - ”

“No. Absolutely not. You’re not bothering her. Not now.” Arin’s pouring sweat from his forehead from the pain. “Do you have any idea what we’ve been through?”

“If you would like to speak with your wife prior to this interview, we would be willing to speak with the third victim first…”

Arin grinds his teeth. “No. Don’t you dare.”

“Mr. Hanson - ”

“Dan hasn’t even gotten to see his fucking _parents_ yet, okay, you can’t just go - interrogate him, Jesus.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Hanson…”

“Don’t patronize me.” Arin’s voice cracks. God, it hurts so fucking bad. 

They look at each other, and the first man says, “Alright, Mr. Hanson. I’m sorry.”

Arin takes three deep breaths. “So what do you want to know?”

The answer to that is apparently, everything. When, where, why, how. They fire questions at him like bullets and Arin feels stupid when he has to struggle for an answer.

The officer’s writing is surprisingly neat and ornate. He writes as fast as Arin talks. He finishes one line and marks a new bullet point for the next in the time it takes for Arin to draw a breath.

He gets through some of it alright. How he came down to find the window smashed. Fighting the men. Being held down and drugged, waking up in the basement, even the part where he saw Dan being hurt. 

“Did you see any other people in the house? Other friends or associates of your captors?”

“No.”

“Did you see any other victims, or personal belongings in the basement?”

“No.” 

“Did they reveal that they kidnapped or assaulted anyone else?”

“No - wait, yeah, they…kind of. They talked about different ways they’d killed people.”

The officer raises his eyebrows slightly, encouraging Arin to go on.

“I can’t remember everything. But they joked about how…like how the black-haired man, the one that took Dan, they joked about him getting carried away with knives and - and how they’d tortured other people with it.” 

“Getting carried away,” he repeats. “Did he say anything else about this incident? Where it occurred, if the victim died…”

Arin knows they‘re reaching for all the clues they can, but it feels frustrating. “Look, they didn’t sit down and spell out a confession. Maybe they were just talking shit to scare us.” _Probably not_ , he thinks, remembering what the guys had been doing, making snuff films to finance their disgusting habits. “How many people did these guys kill, do you know?”

At first he isn’t sure that they’ll answer. They look at each other before the officer finally responds.

“Thirteen, that we know of. Eleven have been identified. We know from their films that there are many more.”

“Jesus,” Arin mutters. He thinks of all the missing people, all the ones that were just - gone. Never to be seen from or heard from again. Their loved ones waiting for closure that would never come. 

_That was almost us. If it weren’t for Dan…_

There’s one thing he can’t talk about. Arin knows it’s coming, but he still shuts down.

They don’t even ask directly, like that‘s somehow better. “Did you have a rape kit done here at the hospital?”

Arin grits his teeth. “Can’t you just, like, look at my medical records or some shit?”

“Privacy laws state that we require your permission to view your personal medical records.”

“Well, you have it. Give me something and I’ll fucking sign it.”

The officer writes something down, marks a new bullet point. “Okay,” he says. “Can you - ”

Arin reaches for another Kleenex but the box is empty. His cheeks are wet and he’s shaking. “Can we, um. Can we stop now please? I can‘t do this any more. I’m sorry, but I think I’ve told you enough.”

They look at each other, and then nod at him. 

“Okay, Mr. Hanson. Thank you for your time.” They both turn to go.

“Wait,” Arin says. “Just wait, fuck.”

“What’s the matter?”

“You’re not going to go talk to Dan, are you?”

One glances at his watch. “In about half an hour, yes.”

“Please don’t fucking ask him about what that scumbag did to him.”

“We have to - ”

“You don’t have to do jack shit. You know Dan went through the same thing I did. Just, maybe, ask him if you can see his medical records too. You don’t need to know any more.”

“We need first-person accounts. This is extremely important to our investigation. We’re dealing with serial murderers, and you three are the only survivors.”

“We know nothing about other victims. We can’t help you.”

“He can refuse to speak to us, if that’s what he wants.”

 _Of course Dan’s not going to say no,_ Arin thinks. _They’ll guilt him into it._ Out loud he says, “I think he should probably see a familiar face before you guys go barge in there asking him to describe exactly how he was tortured when you can see damn well what they did to him.”

“If Mr. Avidan consents, and if the medical staff agree, we could try to arrange for you to be there with him during his interview.”

Arin doesn’t want to intrude on Dan’s pain, but the thought of seeing his warm, beautiful face fills him with something he’d forgotten existed. Maybe it was hope. “If that’s what he wants…and please, just. Give us a little more time. More than half an hour. Let me make sure he’s okay, before you come in and…”

They look at each other again, and finally one of them says, “Okay. We can inquire about you and your friend being together, and we’ll return after lunch.”

“Thank you,” Arin mutters.

The officer is kind enough to reach all the way back to pull Arin’s door closed on the way out.

Before Suzy gets back, Arin rolls to the side, ignoring the pain in his arm, and vomits into the plastic bucket the nurses had left for that purpose.

**

Arin feels a little better once his stomach is empty. The nurse comes in and takes the puke bucket away. When she comes back, she checks the stitches on his arm and gives Arin a shot to help reduce his nausea.

While she works, Arin thinks of a plan. The cops will be coming back, and Arin has to be there for Dan no matter what. If they tell him that he can’t leave his room, he’ll pull his IV out and sneak out when nobody’s looking. There is no other option.

Maybe he failed at protecting his loved ones. And maybe he’s going to lose his arm and fail to support them. But he’s not going to give up. 

He’s going to do everything in his power to make this better, however he can.

Luckily, Arin doesn’t have to resort to anything drastic. The head nurse comes in and helps him sit up as his usual nurse slips the IV out of his hand and presses a cotton pad to catch the blood. He gets another shot in his upper arm instead of the slow drip to tide him over, pain management wise, until he gets back. 

It’s not until he’s standing outside Dan’s room that it hits him all at once - this is real, and Dan is here, and like Brian said, he’s not going anywhere. Somehow, he made it. Arin doesn’t even know where the fuck to begin in expressing his love and gratitude. He owes Dan everything, literally fucking everything. What did you say to the man who saved your life?

Arin doesn’t have anything to blow his nose into so he doesn’t want to think too much. The door is cracked open, and when Arin tries to knock softly, it swings all the way inward to reveal a room as plain as Arin’s own, but with one marked difference.

Dan is laying there on the bed, pale and wan and beautiful. His eyes are closed and he looks almost peaceful save for the horrifying contraption on his leg and the bruising all over his arms. His hair is fanned out over the pillow in spirals. He looks like a real life fallen angel, like a painting. Arin’s breath catches. He hopes Dan’s not asleep - he doesn’t want to wake him up. 

But as he hobbles toward Dan, Dan’s eyes blink open.

“Arin,” Dan breathes, reaching for him. One of his fingers is in a splint. “Arin, fuck, you came.”

Arin doesn’t even think. He bends over the high railing of Dan’s bed and hugs him as gently as he can. Dan’s hair still smells like his old shampoo, warm and sweet, and he’s pressing his face into Arin’s collar. Arin hears a sob, feels the wetness on his skin, and Dan’s crying and so is he. 

“Danny,” Arin gets out, his voice wrecked, “I missed you. Missed you so fucking much.”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Dan says, muffled into Arin’s skin. “I thought…oh, Arin…”

Arin strokes his hair, breathing in his scent, just thinking over and over how grateful he is that Dan is alive and safe. “It’s okay. I’m here now,” he says, trying to sound comforting even as the tears roll down his cheeks and he thinks, _I thought he killed you, thought you were gone forever._

Dan pulls back to breathe, and his eyes are red and his face is flushed and when he looks up at Arin, biting his lip, Arin doesn’t even think. He pushes Dan’s hair out of the way and leans in to kiss him. Dan makes a surprised little noise, lips parting in a gasp, and Arin’s not ready for the jolt in his stomach when he feels Dan kiss him back, his gasp making him close his mouth around Arin’s lower lip, turning the chaste kiss into something that feels a fuck of a lot more intimate. Arin doesn’t think his sudden dizziness has anything to do with his exhaustion or the drugs in his system. 

It’s no big deal. Or at least, it shouldn’t be a big deal. They’ve kissed before. They love each other and it’s no big deal. And yet - Arin’s hand is creeping into Dan’s hair, and Dan’s eyelashes are fluttering against his cheek, and Arin’s mouth is dry and his heart is pumping.

They both seem to pull back abruptly, and there’s a second where Arin looks into Dan’s eyes and swears he sees something there he never has before, but then Dan blinks and smiles at him, the same sweet smile that he always gives Arin, and says, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Arin wants to make a joke about the kiss, something to break the tension, but he can’t find it in himself to do so.

“For coming up here to help me talk to the cops.” 

Arin stares. “Fuck, dude, you saved my life. I kind of owe you one.”

“You make it sound like I did something cool.”

“What you did is like the definition of cool.”

Dan’s smile gets a little tight. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see.”

Arin feels the tension and doesn’t push the issue. He runs his hand over Dan’s hair again and says, “This isn’t a favour. I came because I wanted to see you.”

“I tried to come. All the nurses said no.”

“They were all immune to the Danny Sexbang charm?”

Dan’s giggle makes Arin feel warm inside. “I look like a zombie, Arin, I dunno if I can charm anyone right now.”

“You look - ” _Beautiful_ is on the tip of Arin’s tongue, but it would sound so strange and awkward to say out loud. “You look fine to me.”

“Yeah?”

“A little pale, maybe. We’ll have to hit the beach.”

“Ross invited us over once we’re out of here. We can have a pool party.”

“Sounds good. Whenever that is. How long are you going to be stuck here?”

“If I keep doing well, they can send me home in a day or so. In a wheelchair, though. And I’ll have to be super careful.”

For the first time, Arin dares to look more closely at Dan’s injury. 

“Fuck,” he says. “That’s…that looks like it hurts like crazy.”

“On the plus side, I can’t even feel the broken ribs.”

“Broken ribs?”

“One cracked and one broken. He hit me in the chest with the crowbar.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Danny.” 

Dan tries to smile, but it looks ghoulish. “It’s not so bad. Maybe a seven out of ten. Six and a half.”

“Gotta have some context,” Arin says, trying not to look as upset as he feels. “What’s a one and what’s a ten?”

“One is a mosquito bite. Ten is like, medieval torture.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Arin looks at Dan’s leg again and feels a lump in his throat. “I dunno. I just wish I could make the pain stop.”

“The dilaudid’s pretty good at that, mostly.”

“What’s dilaudid?”

Dan nods with his chin at his IV bag. “It’s, well, it’s heroin, basically.”

Arin actually laughs. He hasn’t done that much, or at all, since the day he’d been taken. Dan smiles too, a little faint, and Arin looks at his mouth and feels his laugh die as the urge to kiss Dan comes back again with a vengeance.

Dan goes on, oblivious. “How’s your arm doing?” he asks softly.

“It’s fine,” Arin lies. “Doesn’t hurt that much, really.”

Dan frowns. “Arin.”

“What.”

“I may be high on dilaudid but I can still tell when you’re lying to me.”

“I just.” Arin hesitates. “I don’t want anyone worrying about me.”

“Too late for that, big cat.”

“Danny…”

“I love you, okay, and I’m gonna worry.” Dan’s eyes travel the length of the scar. “Brian told me.”

“Told you what?”

“That you might…that you might lose the arm.” 

Dan faces it head on, so Arin can too. “There’s a good chance, yeah.”

Dan takes Arin’s bad arm so gently in his elegant hand. He’s shaking, Arin can tell. His hands are rough and hot and dry. He looks up at Arin and presses a kiss to his palm. Arin’s hand is numb but he feels the pressure of Dan’s mouth somewhere in his belly. 

“It’s okay,” Arin tells him when he sees a tear fall. It hurts worse than anything to see Dan cry for him. “Dan, it’ll be okay. It’s an arm. I have another one. Besides, I always did want to lose an extra fifteen pounds.”

Dan makes a half-laugh, half-sob. “That’s not funny. I…I just…I’ve never really prayed before but I’ve been praying since I found out. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Well, stop it. I want you to focus on yourself,” Arin says firmly. “You went through a lot.”

“You went through worse.”

“That seems subjective.”

Dan bites his lower lip. “He said…the black-haired man, he said…that he heard you scream. That’s how he knew he could come down and take me without them noticing.”

Arin winces. 

“What was he doing to you?”

“Nothing worse than what was already done.”

Dan’s eyes are big and tired and sad. He closes them and says, “You don’t have to tell me. But I think it was awful and you’re downplaying it and you shouldn’t have to do that.”

“Did you hear anything?” Arin isn’t trying to change the subject, but he has to know.

“No,” Dan says, “but I was also half-unconscious, so.”

“What do you mean? What did he do to you?”

“Chloroformed me.”

“What the _fuck_.” Arin stares. “Chloroform? Really?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t like in the movies. I breathed a ton of it and it just made me feel really gross and dizzy and it burned. Tastes a bit like after you drink that knockoff Diet Coke we had in the fridge at the office.”

“And then he just - took you outside?”

“He dragged me up the stairs. I was kind of in and out. I remember him getting me in the van and putting zip ties on my wrists and ankles.”

“Did he…”

“Yes.” Dan closes his eyes. “What you’re thinking - yeah, he did.”

“Fuck,” Arin says thickly. “Fuck.”

“It hurt, but not as much as - ” Dan nods at his knee.

“How did you get out?”

“He left the door unlocked. And he didn’t tie my legs up, after - um. I waited til the van stopped. I thought maybe we were somewhere like a town or like. You know, somewhere with a red light, or else, why did he stop? We’d been on the freeway, I think. But it was a train crossing in the middle of nowhere.”

Arin holds his breath just thinking about it.

Dan goes on. “I thought I was gonna die,” he says, tiredly. “I fell out of the van and hurt my hand and he was coming after me saying he’s going to break my ankles, and he was holding a crowbar…I tried to run, and he hit me and hit me again and grabbed me and I don’t even know why I kept fighting but I did. I bit him when he tried to drag me back. And then a truck came…”

Dan has Kleenex on his bedside table too. Arin takes one and hands it to Dan.

“Thanks,” Dan sniffles. His movements are stiff and slow. “It was luck, you know.”

“What was?”

“Me escaping. Everyone keeps saying I’m a hero, but it’s just dumb fucking luck. If the truck hadn’t come I’d still be back there with _him_.”

“Not everyone could do that. Not everyone could have the guts to run.”

“The door was open,” Dan repeats stubbornly. “Luck.”

“You’re the first person to ever escape them.”

“Brian told me there were more. That they were making, home movies to sell on the black market. Snuff films.”

“Thirteen bodies,” Arin says. “And probably a lot more. That’s why the cops want to talk to us.”

“If I can help, I will. I dunno if I know anything important. You already talked to them?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it…was it hard?”

Arin can’t lie. “Yes. You can give them permission to look at your medical record, though, so you don’t have to say everything.”

Dan looks frightened, but then he presses his lips together and a touch of fire comes into his eyes. “You’ll stay here with me?”

“As long as you need me.”

“Then I can do anything.”

He’d said he wasn’t a hero, but Arin looks at his resolute eyes and determined face and knows Dan had been dead wrong.


	13. 13

Dan’s hand trembles as he tries to bring a spoonful of lumpy lukewarm potatoes to his mouth.

Normally he’d have a thing or two to say about the hospital food, served in a plastic sectioned tray like he was in pre-school or prison. But right now he feels like a wet rag wrung out to dry. 

The cops had been nice enough at first. A little cold, but maybe that was professionalism. Arin held Dan’s hand and gave it a squeeze whenever Dan’s voice grew thick.

“You left your front door unlocked?” one of the cops had asked. Dan wasn’t sure if he was merely clarifying or if his tone was tinged with disapproval.

“Sometimes I forget,” Dan had answered, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. “The latch, it looks - my old place, and where I was before that, the latch always was vertical when locked and this place is the opposite - ”

They didn’t care about that. One of them looked at him with a crease between his brows and said, “You’re a public figure, and you often forget to lock your door?”

Arin’s eyes had flashed fire, and he’d opened his mouth, but Dan beat him to it. He didn’t want Arin antagonizing anyone on his behalf.

“There’s a deadbolt too,” Dan said quietly. “Usually I remember to put that on.”

“But this time you forgot.”

“Fucking obviously,” Arin snapped, bristling. “Is that a crime or something?”

“Arin,” Dan squeezed Arin’s hand. “Please.”

Arin looked like he had more to say, but he relented, still glaring.

“So three men came into your house through the front door,” the cop said, looking over his notes. “What did you do?”

“I walked outside with them when they asked me to. One of them had a gun.”

The cops exchanged looks. “Did you try to attract your neighbours’ attention once outside?”

“No. My neighbours, some of them were gone and the other doesn’t really - ”

“Did they attempt to drug you?”

“No.” Dan’s face burned. He’d made it so goddamn _easy_. “They were armed and I - I just did what they said. I didn’t fight. I didn’t want to die.”

Arin said, “You did exactly what you had to do, Dan.”

It got harder. They were keen to know the details of the black-haired man taking him from the basement. Dan relayed the story for the second time, fighting nausea. The scratching of the one cop’s pen was distracting. 

“Did he say where he was taking you?”

“No. He wanted - he said - I don’t think he knew, really, but he seemed to have a plan. He said there’d be a bed and that he’d make food, so maybe - ”

“Did he say or estimate how long the drive would be? Give an approximate destination, or mention the route he was going to take?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, okay, he wasn’t - he was - maybe he did but I don’t remember, I was scared, I thought…” _I thought Arin was going to die. I was thinking about how I could kill myself to get away. I was out of my mind._

“Did you know - ”

“I didn’t know _anything!_ ” Dan shouted, his voice cracking. “I couldn’t see, I was tied up in the back the whole time wondering when he was going to rape me again, I don’t remember anything else.”

He shut up when he saw Arin’s face. The cops didn’t seem perturbed. They waited for him to stop, and then started in again. “Can you recall - ”

“Enough,” Arin said suddenly, and only then did Dan realize that he’d started crying. “Leave him alone. This is too far.”

The cop looked at Arin for a moment as if debating whether or not to answer, but finally said, “Dan told us that this man almost kidnapped him by himself. It’s very possible that he does, or previously did, have a house or cabin or other lodgings where he brought previous victims.”

 _Maybe you’ll be the first toy I don’t break and throw away._ Dan looked at the tiled floor and tried to hide his shudder.

“He doesn’t know where it is,” Arin said firmly. “If he does remember anything, he’ll call you.”

Thanks to Arin, the cops finally backed off.

Dan has the little piece of paper with their contact info somewhere. He still doesn’t remember anything. Long after the police left, the guilt they’d planted in him burned. What if the black-haired man had said some clue, something the cops could use to find other missing people - or their remains, at least - and Dan had been too busy wondering how to kill himself painlessly to pick up on it? Arin had said that he was a hero, but Dan doesn’t fucking feel like one.

He stares at his industrial tray, the little cup of sliced carrots and green beans, the piece of bland chicken and the chocolate pudding cup. 

He wonders what they eat in prison. 

He wonders what the black-haired man is doing now.

Dan’s stomach revolts and he pushes the tray aside. Just then he hears two soft knocks at his open door. He looks up to see Brian standing in the doorway, waiting for permission like he always does even when Dan’s door is wide open.

“Hi,” Dan says, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. Brian’s been keeping him sane, and he’s grateful. Arin had tried to stay with him as long as he could, but the nurse made him leave.

“Jesus Christ, that’s depressing,” Brian’s staring at the meal tray.

Dan shrugs tiredly. “The pudding is okay.”

“I’ve seen better looking chicken patties at Subway.”

“I’ll still eat it, probably.”

“Or,” Brian says, stacking a tower of Tupperware on Dan’s bedside table, “you can throw that mess in the trash and have some real food.”

“That’s all for me?” Dan’s appetite stirs again.

“Mac and cheese, broccoli and mushroom casserole, some fruit salad. Oh, and I stopped at that place you like.”

“Brian,” Dan says when he sees the little cardboard box and recognizes the smell of chicken tenders, “have I told you lately how much I love and appreciate you?”

“Only every time I see you.” 

“Good.” Dan fumbles the container open and takes a bite. “Oh, my God, I’m gonna come in my pants.”

“You’re not wearing pants.”

“Semantics, Brian. I’m going to Jackson Pollock the inside of this stupid gown.”

Dan’s humour is obviously forced, and Brian can tell, but he doesn’t comment on it. He just smiles and says, “You’re easy to please.”

“I’m a simple man, Brian. Bring me chiccy fingers and you have my heart forever.”

Dan goes to town on the food, his appetite growing with every bite, until he has to confess himself defeated. Brian transfers the last chicken fingers to one of the Tupperware bowls.

“Bring some to Arin,” Dan says, laying back with a sigh. He’s already feeling a little more like himself. 

“Already did. I got him a Baconator the other day and he swore that he’d commit bigamy with me.”

“Uh-oh,” Dan says. “Competition.”

Brian’s lips quirk. “For who?”

Dan doesn’t click. “Uh, Suzy?”

“Oh,” Brian says. “Right. Of course. Did they change your bandages again?”

“Had to.”

“Why?”

“I was in the torture chamber again.”

“The debridement room.”

“Yeah, that. The sadist went at me with a scalpel and tweezers.” The cuts on his stomach and arm hadn’t been healing well, so they’d had to pick out the dead tissue manually.

Brian touches his shoulder. “That sounds awful.”

Dan gives a half-shrug. “The pain wasn’t the worst part.”

“What was the worst part?”

Dan shifts uncomfortably. He can tell Brian almost anything, but it’s tough when he’s ashamed of himself. “I maybe freaked out.”

“Understandable.”

“Not really. They were trying to help. But they had to get my hospital gown off and then there was a new nurse, not the usual one, who made me open my legs so she could check the cut on my thigh and maybe I pushed her away.” 

“They know what you went through. They should understand.”

“What happened to me doesn’t excuse me shoving a woman.” Dan has pretty strong morals, and putting his hands on a woman was one of the worst things he could do.

“I doubt you did it hard. You can hardly move.”

“Well, no, but. She’s just trying to do her job.”

“Was she upset?” 

“No. Said she was fine and not to worry about it. I apologized, obviously. They gave me a break and then they came back and gave me some nitrous. It helped a lot. And they worked fast.”

“Fast is good,” Brian nods. “But what about the wounds? Did they find clear tissue beneath the infected stuff?”

“Yeah, they say I’ll be fine. My ribs will take about six to eight weeks to heal up completely. They don’t hurt too bad.”

“When can you go home?”

“They said another day or two. Gotta pump some more chemicals in me first.”

“Antibiotics?” 

“Yeah, and um, antiretrovirals.”

Brian’s smile vanishes. “Dan.”

 _Why did I say that?_ “I, um.”

“Dan,” Brian repeats, quietly.

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now, alright, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“I’m glad you trusted me enough to say it.” Brian’s voice is soft. “And maybe we should talk about it.”

Dan doesn’t want Brian to pry it out of him. His neck and jaw are too tight to answer.

Brian rubs his shoulder. “Did your kidnapper test positive?”

Dan’s silent long enough for Brian to draw his own conclusion. Dan can see it on his face. “One fucking thing at a time, okay,” Dan manages. 

“This is a pretty big thing.”

“Let me just wait until, until we know what’s going on with Arin’s arm. Then I’ll think about, um, this situation.”

“Does Arin know?”

“No. Please don’t tell him.”

“He’d want to know.”

“He’d worry himself to death,” Dan says sharply. “He already is. He never thinks about taking care of himself when he really should.”

“Sounds kind of familiar.” 

Dan stays quiet, struggling to contain all the pain and fear and dread that he had to keep buried deep down in order to cope.

And then Brian says, “Danny,” just his name, but with such genuine concern, and Dan feels his composure start to crack.

“Don’t.” There’s a lump in Dan’s throat. “Not now, okay. Later.”

Brian takes a deep, steadying breath and lets it out through his nose. “If Arin finds out on his own - ”

“Which he won’t.”

“Or if something does happen, and you have to drop that bomb on him, it’s going to be even worse - ”

“I said I’ll deal with it later, okay?” Dan grips the rail of his bed. “Too much is happening at once, and I can’t handle it right now. And now I’m going to have to go home soon and leave Arin here and I just - it’s a lot.”

“You can visit Arin every day if you want to. I’ll drive you.”

“It’s not just that.”

_You have a very nice house, Danny. Such a nice, private entry…your neighbours wouldn’t have seen a thing if I’d dragged you out your own front door._

“Then what is it?” Brian presses.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Dan says, trying and failing not to sound like he was whining. He knows it’s stupid, but the thought of going back to the house where the captors were is too much for him. He could invest in all the security money could buy and still feel scared.

Brian takes his hand. “At your house, you mean? You won’t be. You think I’ll let you be alone?”

“I don’t want to be a burden either.”

“You’re not a fucking burden, Danny.”

Dan just shrugs.

Brian makes an angry noise. “I _like_ spending time with you. You’re my best friend.”

“You have a family. A life.”

“ _You’re_ my family.”

“I appreciate that, but - I don’t want pity, either.”

“It’s not pity,” Brian says sharply. “That’s kind of insulting. I don’t pity you. I love you. And I want to be there for you.”

Dan’s tired of arguing the point, and Brian’s pain pierces him. He closes his eyes and just says, in a small voice, “Yeah, alright, I’m sorry.”

Brian knows when he’s gone too far. “Okay,” he says. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. I just - I know that you would do the same for me.”

Dan doesn’t even want to _begin_ to think about that horror, of losing Brian to faceless captors and unimaginable tortures. Dan would be an absolute wreck. And if he got Brian back, he’d cling to him for as long as he was allowed.

Brian puts his hand on top of Dan’s. Dan turns his hand over and Brian traces a finger lightly around Dan’s palm. Dan likes it, likes being given something to focus on, the way Brian isn’t afraid of Dan’s ups and downs and mood swings. He’s stayed with Dan for hours, sometimes in silence, just being the courage Dan needed at his side.

“How come you don’t get bored of me,” Dan mumbles, some time later.

Brian’s fingers still for a moment, then resume their slow circles. “I’m too busy being grateful that you’re still here.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think you’ll ever know how much it hurt to think that you were gone.”

Dan remembers the ache of leaving Suzy and Arin behind in the torture basement, that terrible gnawing hole in his heart that hurt so bad he could hardly breathe. “That bad?”

Brian stares at the wall. “I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I felt like something had been ripped out of my chest. I kept thinking, God, it would almost be better if they just found a body. That way at least I’d know what happened, instead of thinking of a hundred different scenarios every night. Seeing you die over and over again in my head.”

Dan has to look away. The anguish on Brian’s face is too much. “Maybe I know the feeling,” he says. “When I was taken out of that house and made to leave Arin there, not knowing what would happen to him…it was horrible.”

“So maybe,” Brian goes on, still softly, “you can stop thinking that I would ever, _ever_ not appreciate the chance to spend more time with you, especially if you’re afraid to be alone.”

“I’ll try,” Dan says, a little wobbly from emotion now. 

“Good. Now eat some more. You need to keep up your strength so you can get better.” Brian punctuates this with a kiss to Dan’s forehead. “I love you.”

Dan says, “Don’t make me cry again, cheese ball. I love you too.” He can already feel the wetness on his cheeks. He gropes for a Kleenex and wipes his face, and tries to break the serious mood in the room by saying, “I’ll love you more if you pass me that mac ‘n cheese.”

“What if I told you I made it myself and used five different cheeses?”

“Marry me.”

“Done. We’ll honeymoon in Cabo.”

Dan‘s starting to feel fuzzy. “Too many sharks.”

“I’ll keep you safe.” It’s Brian’s turn to mop away sudden tears. “I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”

Brian stays at his side until the comfort food pulls Dan into sleep.

**

The nurse that comes in to check on Dan the next day is a familiar face. Dan recognizes him as the assistant from the debridement room.

“Good afternoon,” he says, and Dan murmurs it back, wondering where the morning had gone. It feels like he’d just woken up. He takes the little cup with the two pills on it, and the disposable paper cup of water.

“Let’s see how those cuts are doing today,” the nurse says brightly when Dan finishes his water. 

“Okay,” Dan says, and winces as he sits up far enough to let the backless hospital gown slip off his shoulders. The nurse moves to help him, and Dan recoils instinctively.

To his credit, the nurse backs off, hands held visible. “Would you prefer a woman to have a look?”

Dan would, but he doesn’t want to be a pain. He needs to get over this. He’s _safe_ , and this guy is here to help him. “It’s okay.”

He gets directed to hold out his arm, palm up, while the bandage around his wrist is peeled back. The angry redness has faded, and the cut looks much better than it did.

“The swelling has gone down quite a bit,” the nurse notes, taking Dan’s hand gently so he can turn his arm side to side. “And there’s been no drainage.”

“Is that good?”

“It’s very good. Let’s see that one on your stomach, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Dan sets the gown right at his hips and takes several breaths as the nurse’s hands go to his stomach. This is a little worse, but he’s used to it now. This cut is deeper, more painful, and he winces when the nurse pats two gloved fingers around the edges of the wound before proclaiming it ‘very good’, just like his arm. Then it was time for the tough part.

“I need the gown to come off, Mr. Avidan,” he says, gently but firmly. 

“Could I maybe, um.” _You’re being stupid._ “Is it okay, if, maybe, I can have my phone in my hand so I can listen to music while you do it?”

“Yes, of course. Can you only put one of those earphones in, in case I need to ask you a question?”

“Yeah, alright.” 

Even just holding the phone helps. It’s the connection Dan wants - the reminder that he’s not trapped here, that help will come if he needs it, that Brian is right downstairs having lunch. Safe. He’s safe.

Dan pops in his earbud and scrolls through his music, meaning to find something soothing. Instead he finds himself looking up his own album. He picks _The Hero of Rhyme_. Hearing Arin’s voice makes him relax right away, and it’s not all that unpleasant when the nurse presses the button that lays the bed flat so he can gently move Dan’s uninjured leg to the side to see the wound on his upper inner thigh.

The nurse isn’t speaking to him so Dan lets his eyes close and his mind wander. He’s thinking about Arin, and Starbomb, and being on tour. Having his two best friends at his side for the journey made the exhaustion and the lack of sleep tolerable. He remembers sharing the hotel room in Chicago with Arin, up half the night giggling at Arin’s stupid jokes. 

Arin could still rap with one arm. He could still write music. He could still go out on tour again. That’s something that won’t have to change, no matter what.

It was the first time Dan considered the situation without wanting to cry. That was progress, maybe. 

“Everything looks great,” the nurse says, chipper. “Let me get your bed back up to a comfortable position, and you can get your gown back on.”

 _That wasn’t so bad._ Dan slips his arms back into his hospital gown as the nurse turns away to write something on his chart. 

“I bet you’re pretty excited to go home,” the nurse goes on, turning back to face Dan with a smile. “Just have to get through one more night, finish up your IV meds, and you should be good to go around the early afternoon at the latest.”

“Yeah.” He _should_ be excited.

“Your chart says you were gone almost a week. You’re very brave.”

Dan only shrugs. He doesn’t want to talk to a stranger, as nice as this guy’s been. “I guess. I got through it.”

“Well, what’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get home?”

“Lock the door behind me.” 

The nurse’s smile becomes a little forced. “Okay, yeah alright,” he says, clearly uncomfortable. He changes tactics. Clearing his throat, he looks at Dan’s chart again. “You’ll likely be prescribed a wheelchair sometime during the morning, along with crutches. For the first week or so you’ll have to stay in the chair for most of the time, and then we can transition you to crutches, and from there we’ll get you into physical therapy to learn how to walk on it.”

Dan’s knee feels nowhere near being ready to walk on. “How long is this thing on my leg for?”

“With how badly your knee and femur were broken, likely twelve to sixteen weeks.”

“Sixteen weeks.” Fuck, that’s four months. A third of a fucking year.

“It’ll get easier to deal with,” the nurse assures him. “The hardest part will be remembering to clean the pin sites every day. We’ll go over that part tomorrow.”

“I can hardly wait.” 

It’s not like him to be sarcastic, but Dan can’t help it.

The nurse is quick to leave him alone. Dan enjoys the ten seconds of peace before the fear starts to creep in around the edges. He hates feeling so helpless, hates how scared it makes him. He can’t run. He can’t escape. He might as well be tied up, with the fixator on his leg and his ribs feeling so bruised it hurts to breathe.

 _Safe_ , he reminds himself. _You’re safe. Breathe._

He wishes he had his wheelchair already. That way he could go down to Arin’s room by himself, wheel up right beside his bed, maybe crawl in beside him and fall asleep nestled against Arin’s warmth. But there’s no way he’s even making it to the elevator on his own. Dan had tested his leg, put maybe a twentieth of his body weight on it, and that hadn’t been much fun. Maybe Brian or someone could help him, walk with him…but no, Brian would tell him to lay down and rest, that he would see Arin soon. Probably he was right.

Dan yawns hugely, and only then does he realize that his breathing has evened out, his chest gone loose again. Just thinking about Arin had done the trick. 

With a burst of inspiration, Dan grabs his laptop from the bag beside his bed and loads up the Grumps channel.

For once, the evening slips by, and Dan finds himself smiling for the first time in days. 

**

“Dan’s being sent home tomorrow,” Ross announces, his loud arrival causing one of Suzy’s eyes to crack open from where she’s sleeping on a chair.

Arin says, “Jesus fucking heart attack.”

“Sorry.” Ross looks abashed. “I know I should knock, I just thought you’d be awake.”

Arin waves it off. What Ross lacks in tact, he makes up for with genuine love. He’s always a distraction for Arin, and Suzy doesn’t get nervous around him. Sometimes he brought Holly, too, and she would take Suzy for a walk in the courtyard while Arin caught up with Ross. What they talked about exactly, Arin didn’t know, but he had a suspicion that Holly’s experiences with trauma and therapy played a big part in why Suzy always came back from those walks looking a little less gaunt and hollow.

There’s no extra chair for Ross to sit on. Arin gestures at the foot of his bed and says, “Sit there, it’s fine.”

“Okay.” Ross perches so precariously on the edge of the bed that Arin snorts. 

“These beds can hold like, a thousand pounds. You’re not gonna break anything, Ross.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

“You’re fine.” 

Ross visibly relaxes.

Arin and Ross had always been close. Arin knows what happened had shaken Ross pretty hard. He was still a little on edge around him, unsure of Arin’s boundaries. He wanted to be as close as possible but he always needed Arin’s permission first. 

“Anyway,” Ross resumes, “Dan’s gonna go home tomorrow.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Brian did.”

Arin frowns. “How’s he gonna get home?”

“In a wheelchair.”

“Who has a vehicle big enough for a wheelchair to fit?”

“I think the hospital has like, shuttle service.”

Arin’s brain is having a hard time keeping up with this. “They’re just gonna plop him in a wheelchair and drop him off?”

Suzy speaks up tiredly. “He’ll probably like it better than being stuck here at the hospital.”

“I don’t know,” Arin says slowly. “I bet he’s scared. I would be, if I lived alone. I think - ”

Arin’s interrupted by the arrival of Suzy’s sister. When Suzy gets up to hug her, they stand in the doorway talking in low voices, and then disappear into the hallway outside. Arin seizes the moment. 

“Ross,” he mutters, almost under his breath.

Ross turns his huge eyes on him questioningly.

“Can you do me a favour.”

“Anything for you.”

“I find out in two days if - if my surgery worked. I didn’t tell Suzy yet.”

Ross turns a shade paler than his usual porcelain. “Do you think - ”

“I don’t know anything. The arm feels the same as it always does. Just hurts and tingles all the damn time.” 

“Is that bad?”

“Well, it’s supposed to hurt. The doctors did say the surgery would hurt like a bitch.”

“But is it supposed to be getting better?”

Arin shrugs. “Eventually, I think. I don’t know. I just know that in two days they’ll be able to see if the cutting actually released the pressure, and whether or not my arm is starting to rot from the inside.”

Ross says, “So why didn’t you tell Suze yet?”

Arin hates lying to Suzy, even lying by omission. Ross knows that and it’s why he looks so puzzled. He tries to explain himself as best as he can. “I sort of told everybody that I had three days left instead of two. If they tell me they have to amputate, I’m maybe going to freak the fuck out.”

“That’s alright. I mean, most people would, I think. I know I would.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know how I’ll react, but I know I don’t want Suzy to see me break down. She thinks…everyone thinks I’m some big hero for handling this well.”

“I think she’s always thought you were a hero.”

Arin swallows over the lump in his throat. “I know she does. And I don’t want to scare her if I like…burst into fuckin’ tears and bawl my eyes out or something. I wanted to ask you if you’d be there with me.”

“Me?” Ross looks surprised.

“You’ve seen me at my worst. You can handle it.” _And I don’t need to protect you, like I have to protect Suzy and Dan._ “I trust you. I really need a friend like you with me. If I have to cry, I want to get it all out, maybe unload on you a bit. By the time I have to tell Suzy, and Dan…I’ll have had time to process it. It’ll be better.”

“Okay,” Ross says, a little uncertainly. “Arin, I might cry too. Just, you know, a warning.”

“I think I can handle it.”

“Good,” Ross says, and scrubs at his face with his sleeve. He looks at Arin, and Arin sees the man beneath the happy-go-lucky exterior. Ross liked to play the merry fool, but underneath Arin knew him to be one of the strongest, most caring people he’d ever met. A lot of people underestimated him. 

“Arin,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens, you know we’ll all be there for you.”

“I know.”

“You don’t always have to be strong.”

“I know, but.”

“But what?”

Arin tries to think, to formulate the vague thoughts swirling in his head. “You know it was bad. But you weren’t there, okay. What happened to Suzy and Dan was…it was beyond horrible. And I couldn’t stop it.”

“What happened to you was horrible, too.” Ross knew more than most of his friends. He’d thrown up twice after Arin had told him what the men wanted from them. 

“Yeah, but they - they went through hell and still managed to fight back. Dan saved us all. Suzy fought like hell when they took us. And I - I didn’t do anything. But I can fix that. I can be strong for them now. If I can’t - and I lose my arm and can’t Grump any more and can’t provide for Suzy or keep a job for Dan - what fucking use am I to anyone?”

Ross frowns. “You know you’re more than just a fuckin’ guy that runs a company, right? They don’t love you because you make money for them.”

“Ross,” Arin says unsteadily, “I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but it doesn’t change anything. If I see Suzy cry, I’ll fuckin’ lose it, and neither of us need that.”

“Yeah, alright,” Ross says softly. “I get that. But…Arin, I don’t know if waiting to tell them will make it any easier.”

He’s probably right. But at least it would give Arin some time to prepare, some time to think about how to just tell his family. “Just - be there for me when I get the news. I’ll figure my shit out from there.”

Ross looks like he has a lot more to say, but he just nods. “You want me there, I’m there. Call me. But what about Suzy? How are we gonna keep this from her? Well, not keep it from her, but - ”

“I’m going to convince her to go home and get some rest. That’ll help her get some food and real sleep. Maybe it’ll make the bad news go down easier.”

“ _If_ there’s bad news,” Ross corrects.

“Sure,” Arin repeats, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply to keep calm.

Ross hugs him carefully and says, “Chins up, Arin, I promise everything will be okay.”

Arin takes a minute to catch on, and then he’s startled into a laugh. “Listen, you fuck, I still have the one arm.”

“Big talk,” Ross mocks, his eyes dancing, and Arin picks up one of the dozens of cards he’s been sent and folds it into a messy paper airplane to send sailing at Ross’s face. Ross squawks and tips himself off the end of Arin’s bed dramatically.

“My _eye_ ,” Ross groans, squinting one shut.

“Get up and come watch Sailor Moon Crystal with me.”

Ross wrinkles his nose. “Which season?”

“Your choice. You wanna watch the first two and make fun of the bad animation?”

“Fuck yeah.” Ross bounces off the floor, his eye now magically fine.

“Come here.” Arin shifts to the side, leaving enough space for Ross to carefully get on the bed beside him.

Ross’s warmth and closeness is kind of nice. Arin notices that his heart doesn’t race like it does when Dan is this close to him, though. There’s something alarming about that - something he should probably spend some time thinking about.

But that’s complicated, and Arin’s had enough of complicated.

He prefers leaning back and listening to Ross go off on a passionate tangent about cheap animation. Mindless, amusing chatter to fill the void, stave off the impending terror of the news that might end everything in less than forty-eight hours.

**

When Suzy comes back, she kisses Arin on the forehead. Ross hops off the bed and promises to come back later. Suzy carefully takes his place and lays down on the side of his bed. They can’t exactly cuddle, but this comes close.

They lay in comfortable silence for maybe twenty minutes, before Arin speaks up.

“We can’t let Dan be sent home alone.”

Suzy stirs next to him and props herself up on an elbow. “He won’t be alone. Everyone wants to come see him. He’ll have tons of visitors.”

“Sure, yeah, but how many will be willing to actually help him? He’ll be in a wheelchair. He’ll need help doing, well, everything.”

“Why not Brian? He’s been here all week.”

“Brian has a family,” Arin points out. “And he needs to sleep at some point.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to spend a little more time with Dan.”

“Of course he would. But he needs a break.” He’d never say so, of course. “He looks like shit. Rachel’s worried about him.”

“Barry, then. They’ve lived together before. Dan trusts him.”

“That could work,” Arin agrees, “but I think Dan’s kind of nervous about going back to his house in the first place.”

“He needs a new alarm system like us,” Suzy suggests.

“It’s not that. I think it’s how private it is. He used to like it, but now…”

“It’s hard to see from the road,” Suzy bites her lip. “Maybe Barry could take him to his place.”

“With all the stairs?”

“Or Brian…”

“Suze,” Arin says, and he already sees the stubbornness on her face even before he finishes, “why not our place? Why don‘t you two go home together?”

“Me? But - ” Suzy flounders. “Arin, I can’t. I need to be here with you.”

“You’ve been here for a long time.” Arin reaches for her hand. “Listen, it’s the perfect idea. There’s the ground floor guest bedroom, he knows the layout well, we have everything he needs, and he trusts you.”

“I need to take care of _you_ ,” she repeats, her voice trembling. “What if something happens when I’m gone? What if - ”

“Suze, I’m in…pretty much the safest possible place I can be. I have a phone to call you if anything changes. You can still visit. But you need to go home. You can’t sleep here again.”

“Watch me,” she shoots back, getting fired up now. “The chair is fine. I’ve slept in worse places.”

Arin had expected this. Suzy was selfless to a fault when it came to Arin. “I want you to get better. Gain weight, cuddle the cats, sleep in your own bed, spend time with your family.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Suzy repeats, and now she’s shaking. “I don’t want to have to leave you ever again.”

“You’ve taken care of me for days,” Arin tells her. He lifts his good arm and beckons her forward so he can take her hand. “I need you to do this for me.”

“Okay,” she whispers, still uncertain. “But - ”

“Someone has to take care of Dan. And someone has to take care of you, because I can’t. You two can take care of each other.”

She nods slowly. “I guess this could work. Should I go ask Dan what he thinks?”

“Would you?”

“Right now?”

“Sure, if he’s up.” Arin makes his voice light. “I feel pretty good right now. Maybe good enough to nap.”

“Okay.” She brings his hand to her mouth and kisses it. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

When she’s gone, Arin looks at his arm. His ugly, malformed, stitched-up arm. It’s bruised and painful and mangled, and he’d lied to his parents and everyone else when they asked him if it felt better today.

It didn’t. If anything, it felt worse. 

It was crazy how much the thought of losing a limb was like the idea of losing a friend. It had been by his side, literally, all his life. Had he ever just - stopped, and thanked God or whoever for his arms and legs? Had he ever realized how lucky he was to have two arms?

He feels the tears start to come, but holds them back.

He has to be strong. He has to do this. 

What else was he good for, if he couldn’t?


	14. 14

Dan isn’t sure how he feels about being in the house that Arin and Suzy shared.

On one hand, it’s a relief to be out of the hospital. Dan had enjoyed the visits from his friends, but it had grown annoying, too, with his room being invaded every few hours. Of course people wanted to see him, and of course Dan appreciated their time and effort, but - all the same, he didn’t always feel like being his usual good-natured, talkative self. At some point, he needed to collect himself and try to process everything that had happened. He needed to find out how bad the damage was so he could figure out how to overcome it. 

Suzy is kind. Kind and safe. She would give Dan space if he asked, or keep him company if he wanted. Dan loves her and couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather be with right now. He doesn’t have to tell Suzy what happened to him, or how deeply it’s scarred him, because she already understands. 

But this whole house is filled with memories of Arin, and his absence cuts Dan deep.

There are photos on the walls of Arin and his family. The couch smells like Arin, and it reminds Dan of napping on the Grump couch during breaks. Arin’s favourite mug is still on the counter, like maybe he was drinking tea on the night he’d been taken. In the living room, there’s a small, round dark stain on the rug. A single droplet of dried blood. 

It’s a goddamn minefield. 

Dan’s wheelchair glides through the living room. He’s achy, tired, and mentally drained. Or, as he called it, _normal._ A flurry of movement catches his eye and he looks down just in time to see Mochi fleeing, the sound of the chair clearly too much for him to handle. 

Dan parks the chair and says, “Hi, Moch.”

Two huge eyes gleam at him reproachfully from behind the couch.

“He’s been weird since we got back,” Suzy says tiredly, coming out of the kitchen with a yawn. She’s bare-faced, her hair down, her clothes as oversized as Dan’s. Dan recognizes her hoodie as belonging to Arin, and he knows she’s wearing it partly because she misses him and partly because she’s like Dan - hiding her body because it makes her feel safer. “Our neighbour down the road found him outside in their yard and was taking care of him.”

“That’s lucky.” Dan holds out his hand over the side of his wheelchair. He can’t lean over too far without hurting his ribs. Mochi creeps toward him with unusual wariness. “What about Mimi and Otto?”

“Ross has one of our spare keys. When he heard about us, he came over with Holly and they were feeding them. They’re the ones that arranged to get the window replaced. The cops just covered it with taped-up garbage bags.” 

“That was nice of them.”

Like a lot of their conversations, it ends there, abruptly. Dan can’t think of anything to say. Suzy’s gaze is fixed on the window, her face suddenly bleak, and Dan knows she’s thinking of that awful night again.

“He was so brave,” Suzy says after a minute’s silence. “Just charging at them like that…”

“He tried to attack them when they broke in?”

Suzy sits on the far end of the couch, her hands in her lap. “It all happened so fast. They were just standing there looking at us, and Arin ran in front of me. And when he went down, they didn’t stop. I tried to protect him, but one of them held me back as the others held Arin down and stuck him with the needle. He fought like crazy. I’ve never seen him like that before.” 

“He wanted to protect you. That’s what he does.”

Suzy’s breath hitches and she swallows hard to suppress what Dan thinks might be a sob. “Yeah,” she gets out, and then, “God, Danny, I love him so much. He’s _still_ being brave and selfless, too. Even though…even though… ”

Dan wheels closer, not wanting to intrude but feeling guilty for being so far away from her. “He’s tough as hell,” Dan says, feeling his chest give a pang. “He was brave the whole time we were there. He tried so hard to protect me and he was worried sick about you. We both were.”

Suzy winces. “He always worries about us. He ripped out his IV needle trying to come see you in the hospital.”

Dan’s eyes widen. “What? Jesus, Arin!”

“He asked the head nurse if he could visit you and she said no, he had to stay in bed. Then they found him outside in the hallway trying to carry his IV stand with him.”

It was such an Arin thing to do. “I don’t envy the nurse who had to tell him to get back in bed.”

“He was pretty good about it. I wasn’t there, or else I would have made him do it.”

“I wish I could have come down to see him instead. I wish they had put us in rooms next to each other.”

“I wish I could have been there in the basement too, to comfort him,” she murmurs. “But at the same time, I - I’m glad I never had to see those men violating him.”

A memory crashes into Dan like a freight train. Arin, forced to straddle him, his body being rocked with the strength of the boss’s thrusts. How hard Arin had tried to keep still so he wouldn’t jostle Dan’s fresh wounds. Arin being violated in the worst way, literally inches in front of Dan’s face. Their captors joking and tormenting Arin, groping him, dehumanizing him. And Dan hadn’t done anything but lay there, meek and mild. 

The men had even laughed about it. _Dan’s no threat,_ the one had said, when they were debating tying him up again.

“Are you okay?”

Suzy’s voice jerks Dan back into the present. He gasps for air, unaware that he’d stopped breathing for a moment.

“Yeah,” he says when he can speak. Her eyes are worried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Takes more than that to scare me.” Suzy smiles wanly. “You just looked awful for a second there. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s not you. I remember that shit every time I close my eyes.”

“Yeah,” she answers quietly. “Me, too.”

Dan wants to reach for her and gather her in a hug, but he also knows a lot of reasons why that’s a really bad idea. Dan had practically had a heart attack when his best friend Adam had hugged him without warning. Freaking _Adam_ , who he’d known forever. Luckily he’d managed not to completely lose his mind, but he knew he’d scared Adam, who from then on moved very cautiously in Dan’s presence. Just like the nurse he’d shoved when she had tried to examine him.

“I’m getting sick of being like this,” Dan mutters, frustrated. He blinks his own tears back savagely.

“You mean in a wheelchair?” Suzy ventures.

“No - well, yes, that too. But I meant just, hurting all the time. Seeing the images in my head. And it’s constant - that’s the worst part. It doesn’t go away. I even see this shit in my dreams. I want to be normal again. I want to be _me._ And I don‘t think I’ll ever get back there.”

“Yes,” Suzy whispers. “I know what you mean. It feels like - it’s just there with me forever and I can’t escape. Even if it gets better, I’ll still remember it every day.” She shivers despite the heat and her layers of clothes. “I want to be left alone sometimes, but then…when I’m alone, it’s just like…” She tries a laugh that doesn’t sound right. “It’s stupid, but being alone was almost just as bad as when - as when _he_ came.”

“I don’t think that’s stupid.” Dan tries to envision himself left alone in that basement - not just for that one terrifying night, but the entire time, the monotony broken only by the black-haired man coming in to take his pleasure. Alone with his thoughts and his imagination. “It must have been terrifying.”

“All I wanted was for Arin to be okay. The man who…he said that if I…made him happy, he wouldn’t touch Arin. I wanted to believe him. But then…I heard…”

Dan knows this part. “You heard him being, um.”

She nods, her hands shaking. “A-and…as he screamed…the other man, the one who came to me, he…he told me what had happened to you and Arin, while he did - you know - to me.”

Dan’s heart feels like its being wrung. He says thickly, “God, Suzy.”

“I didn’t even know you were down there too until they let me see Arin.”

“They let you see him?”

“Before the one man - the leader - took him into his room. They made him come into my room and see me. They wanted to scare him. A-and they wanted to scare me too. That time…it was worse than anything before.”

Dan wants to help her get this out, but he also doesn’t want to hear this. He tries to breathe and says, “What happened?”

“He made me do - awful things. He wanted me to be willing. He s-said, if I refused, he’d go and join the boss and do it to Arin instead, or go downstairs and do it to you. And I would have to choose, or else he’d - k-kill one of you. So I - I did everything he asked. Everything.”

“Oh, God, Suzy…”

She’s crying now, her head bent. Dan feels awful. He watches her bury her face into the collar of the hoodie and then he looks away, not wanting to intrude on her pain. Dan can’t imagine the pain of that threat, the anguish Suzy must have gone through. 

“Can I hug you?” Dan ventures.

Suzy’s head jerks up. Her face is red and blotchy. She considers and says, “Maybe it’s better if I hug you. Am I going to hurt your ribs?”

“Not if you’re gentle.” He can do this. Suzy can’t hurt him like the men did. Suzy is safe, as safe as Arin. He angles his chair closer to the couch as she shuffles toward him, and he opens his arms as she draws close.

It’s awkward with the chair, but they make do. Dan gets hit with both Suzy’s and Arin’s scents at once as she wraps her arms carefully around his shoulders. He places his hands gently on her back. 

It’s nice to be hugged. Nice to know he wasn’t broken, that he could still give and receive physical affection with people other than Arin without freaking out. 

“Thank you,” Suzy whispers. “Thank you for everything.”

“You’re the one that’s letting me stay here with you,” Dan murmurs back. “You’re doing so much for me.”

“You saved my life. You saved my husband’s life.”

“He saved mine first. I never would have had the guts if it weren’t for him.”

“You’re just as brave as he is,” she says, and “You _are_ , Danny” when Dan starts to shake his head. 

“I wasn’t very brave when I thought I was going to die,” he confesses, eyes burning. “I even thought of…of killing myself, before I tried to escape. I didn’t think I could handle being taken to - wherever he was going.”

Suzy’s lips tighten. “I…I considered the same thing. I would lie awake wondering how to do it…wondering if I could take one of the screws out of my cot and get it sharp enough to cut…or if I could anger the man enough to kill me, by attacking him. But then I thought, if I failed, he’d maybe take it out on Arin. Bring him into my room and kill him in front of me.”

“Is that what he threatened you with?” 

Her small hands clench into fists. “Yes,” she says. “A-and that…that’s worse than any torture I could imagine. I’m so glad I didn’t lose him. I’m so glad you’re both going to be here for me. I need you here or else I’d fall apart.”

A horrible thought creeps into the back of Dan’s mind. “You’d do just fine without me, Suze.”

She sees the change on his face and hers whitens. “Danny, why would you say that?”

“If something happened to me,” he presses. “You and Arin would be there for each other. You’d have to take care of each other, okay?”

“What are you saying? Why would something happen to you?”

“It’s nothing, Suzy, please don’t be freaked out.”

She looks like she’s about to cry. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Or are you still thinking of…of suicide?”

“No! God no! I’m not suicidal, Suze, I would definitely tell someone and get help. It’s just that, um.” Well fuck, there’s no easy way to say this, and Dan hadn’t practiced it. He hadn’t told anyone so far, except for Brian, and that had slipped out by accident. “There’s a chance…not a big chance…that I might have contracted, um. HIV.”

There’s a moment of silence. 

“Does Arin know,” Suzy manages. Her face has turned even whiter.

Dan shakes his head.

“Oh God, Danny…”

Her horrified little face is breaking Dan‘s heart. “They said it’s a low chance, Suze. They put me on these drugs to prevent it. The only thing is, they work for seventy-two hours after exposure, and so…the first time he raped me would have been before that time frame. But even then, he was apparently on meds that reduced his risk of transmission, but even he admits to not taking them regularly.”

“And the other men…they weren’t HIV positive? Do they know for sure? I know that they did STD tests on Arin and I, just to be safe, and we have to get checked out again in a few months, but they didn’t mention a big risk…”

“I don’t know. They told me that it was in the black-haired man’s medical records. I guess it’s possible that the others were just untested…but I’m sure one of the doctors would have told you guys.”

“Jesus.” She puts her hands to her temples and breathes deeply. 

“Please don’t tell Arin,“ he begs her. “I don’t want him to worry.”

“Am I the only one who knows?”

“Just you and Brian, for now.”

She nods and seems to compose herself. “Okay,” she breathes. “This is okay. We can handle this. No matter what happens, we can handle this.”

Dan watches her hands go to her stomach, rubbing it unconsciously, and Dan hasn’t been told any details but he can guess what she might be thinking about. He doesn’t want to pry it out of her, and he knows it’s none of his business, so all he says is, “No matter what happens, we’ll be there for each other, okay?”

“Did Brian tell you?”

He shakes his head.

“I think you know what I’m scared of, though.”

“Yes,” Dan says slowly. “There’s other things that can happen when there aren’t any condoms being used. Something that Arin and I don’t have to worry about.”

“I’ll know in a week. Even blood tests can’t tell right away.” She swallows. “If it is, I’m getting rid of it.”

“Your body, your choice. And I’ll come with you. I’ll slap the shit out of any protester that tries to judge you for it.”

She actually laughs, albeit weakly. “I’d feel pretty safe going with you and Arin.”

“We wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“I love you.” Suzy presses her face into Dan’s shoulder. “I love you both so much.”

“I love you too, Suze.” Dan wishes Arin was here with them, to complete this moment, instead of being stuck in some lonely hospital bed. “And I love Arin. I hope he knows how much.”

Suzy makes a little humming noise. She pulls away far enough to look at Dan’s face. She gives him a searching look, and then a smile, and says, “You guys have always had a pretty special relationship.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees, thinking of his years of friendship with Arin with a smile, everything they’d shared together. He definitely wasn’t thinking about the kiss in the hospital. Definitely not. Or the way Arin’s warm, soft body felt so comforting pressed against his own. 

Suzy keeps looking at him with an odd, knowing look in her eyes. Some part of Dan knows why, but he won’t admit it.

She doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t have to. Her approval is written all over her face.

She hugs him again, and they stay like that, taking comfort in each other.


	15. 15

Dan’s lying in bed, half-awake and half-asleep. He’s been napping a lot lately. His meds make him tired. Stress makes him tired. Visiting Arin in the hospital and having to leave him there again makes him tired. 

“I’ll be okay,” Arin always said. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

There was no point in arguing with him about why that was impossible, so they just moved on.

They brought him things. Dan loaded his iPod with playlists full of songs that he knew Arin liked, or would like. They watched movies together, the three of them, on Arin’s laptop. Arin didn’t talk much, but he asked a lot of questions and Dan and Suzy filled the silence with their answers.

Neither of them had mentioned the looming date of his final arm examination, where it would be decided what the next step would be. Would Arin be sent home, or would he be sent to the operating room, where the last few moments with all his limbs intact would be spent alone, lying on a gurney, staring up at the masked strangers about to operate on him?

Arin didn’t mention it and Dan didn’t dare bring it up. But on their last visit, Dan thought he could see the fear behind Arin’s jovial smile, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. 

Suzy had been extremely quiet all the way home. Usually, unless they had guests, she would make tea and sit with Dan in the living room, keeping each other company. But this time Suzy had excused herself and spent the rest of the day hidden in her room. Dan hadn’t seen her ‘til noon the next day.

Dan tosses and turns, unable to stop worrying and fall asleep, unable to make himself get up and go about his day. Tomorrow they would find out Arin’s fate. Tomorrow morning. 

Arin had been cagey about whether he wanted Dan there with him or not when he received the news. He’d been the same way with Suzy, though, so Dan wasn’t offended. Arin deserved privacy if he wanted it.

A knock on his door wakes him up just as he slips into a light, troubled sleep.

“Danny?” It’s Suzy’s voice. Something about it seems unusual.

“Yeah, I’m up,” he calls. He rolls onto his back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” comes the answer. “More than fine, actually. Um, so, Ross is here.”

Dan’s brain is still foggy with sleep. He blinks. “Why is Ross here?”

“Dan!” Now it’s Ross’s voice, cutting off Suzy’s answer. “Can I come in?”

Dan’s more confused than ever, but he doesn’t see any reason to refuse him. He didn’t sleep in his underwear anymore and was always fully dressed. “Sure?”

He hears a bunch of hushed whispers, and then Ross pushes the door open. He bounces on the balls of his heels, looking at Dan with big, sparkling eyes.

“Uh,” Dan says warily. “Hi?”

“There’s a surprise for you,” Ross blurts.

Dan rubs his eyes and sits up, yawning. “Is this like the one time you came into the Grump room and said that and then ripped ass?”

Ross honks a laugh. “That was a pretty good surprise.”

“I don’t think you and I agree on the definition of _surprise_.”

“Well,” Ross crosses his arms, “you guys seemed pretty surprised.”

“Yeah,” Dan says dryly. “We were surprised that you didn’t shit yourself.”

“Oh.” Ross’s eyes flash with impish delight. “Well, this is a _real_ surprise.”

“What is it?” Dan asks with interest, but not great enthusiasm. He’s picturing another gift. He’s been inundated with gifts, from all of his family and friends and friends of friends and other Youtubers he’d met just once or twice. He’ll have to dedicate a whole room just for the gifts.

“You’ll see,” Ross says, grabbing Dan’s wheelchair and pushing it across the room to Dan’s bedside. “Want me to push you? Do I need to lift you into this thing? How do I do that without hurting you?”

“It’s electric, Ross.” Dan doesn’t bother adding that he doubts Ross could lift him up.

“I can push it.”

“Maybe I can just use my crutches,” Dan frowns. “Wait, how far are we going?”

“Oh, just, you know,” Ross waves. “Out to the living room.”

Dan considers. “Okay, yeah, crutches are fine.”

“I’ll get them!” Ross picks them up from where they’re leaning against the dresser. He tries to fit them under his arms, but he’s about half a foot too short. “Jesus, you tall bastard.”

“Did you get into the candy jar or something?” Dan grumbles. “You can play with them in like, three years when my leg finally heals.” Very carefully, he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and gets himself on his feet with the help of the crutches. “This better be good.”

“It’s very good. You’ll see.”

Ross darts ahead, and Dan sighs and follows at his own pace. Secretly, he’s glad to see Ross acting more like himself. It had been rough for him too, Dan knows. He wonders what Ross had gotten for him. 

The guest bedroom is at the end of a hall, and then the hall turns and opens up into the main living room area. Dan doesn’t have far to go. He’s getting more used to the crutches and the wheelchair so it’s not tough to navigate the main floor anymore. The sound of his light steps and the padded crutches are quiet on the carpeted floor, and Dan suddenly becomes aware of voices up ahead. 

Suzy hadn’t mentioned having guests. Ross or Brian being there was one thing, but surely she would have warned him before bringing over a crowd.

Dan swallows. He quashes the little jolt of fear and makes himself turn the corner.

And then he stops dead when he sees who’s there.

Arin is standing in his own living room. 

It’s _Arin_ , with both his arms, in his usual black tee and jeans. The horrible gaping scar on his right arm is covered by fresh bandages, and a splint is attached to his hand, across his upper forearm, and past his elbow, holding the arm angled toward his body.

Dan stands there in shock, staring at Arin, hardly able to comprehend what he’s seeing. _Am I still asleep? Is this a dream?_

Then Arin turns and sees Dan, and he freezes too.

They lock eyes, and time stands still. 

Dan doesn’t see the room full of people. He doesn’t see anything or anyone but Arin. “Arin,” he breathes out loud. “You - you’re - you’re _here_ , but - your arm…?” The English language isn’t his strong point right now, it would seem.

“The surgery worked, Dan.” 

“It…it worked? How…when…”

“They checked this morning. The pressure is gone and my circulation is fine. The doctors think that either I’m a fucking miracle or they just revolutionized how crush injuries should be treated. They’re gonna write an article about the treatment they did on me.”

Dan’s brain isn’t working. None of that makes sense. “So this means…you know for sure…like one hundred percent sure that they don’t have to…”

“I’m not losing the arm,” Arin confirms, and then his face splits into a smile as wide as the one he’d shone at Dan the day Dan accepted his offer to become Not-so-Grump.

“Oh,“ Dan says weakly, and then he wobbles on his crutches.

There’s a collective noise of alarm from the crowd that Dan doesn’t see. Arin crosses the room in three strides, reaching for him, supporting Dan’s back with his good arm and catching him before he falls. Arin is a better support than his crutches. “Careful,” he murmurs in that sweet, deep voice of his, and Dan fucking _melts_. “You’re not allowed to get hurt again, okay?”

Dan nods dumbly. “I’m…I’m fine, I think.”

“Good,” Arin says, and as he shifts to adjust his grip on Dan, his fingers slip just beneath the hem of Dan’s shirt. His palm feels electric and heat blooms up Dan’s spine.

Dan can’t take it. He doesn’t think. He surges forward and kisses Arin on the mouth.

Somehow, until now, he’d managed to forget about Arin kissing him in the hospital. How it had made every nerve in his body tingle, how it made him feel like his veins were on fire. Now it all comes rushing back. His head is spinning and his knee doesn’t seem to hurt anymore and all that matters is pressing himself closer to Arin, as close as he can get. He’s _real_ , this is real, Arin’s here and he’s going to be okay.

The kiss seems to last an eternity. But then, eventually, Dan hears a cough.

Dan blinks and pulls back, and suddenly he realizes that there’s about fifteen other people packed into Arin’s living room. 

“Should we clap?” Ross whispers audibly to Barry, and then, “Ow! Why did you elbow me?”

Embarrassed, Dan flushes and grabs onto his crutches. “Um,” he says, like the genius he is. “I’m, um. That’s great news, Arin. About your arm, I mean.”

“Arms are pretty good,” Arin agrees, sounding even more out of it than Dan.

Brian says, “Hey everyone, there’s pizza in the kitchen, maybe we should all go in there.” 

Arin’s flushing red, looking dazed. Dan sort of feels like he’s just been hit in the head by a brick. He’s embarrassed, and he’s aware of all the curious looks and little grins, but he still can’t stop staring at Arin, and he knows there’s a big dumbstruck look on his face. 

Once everyone had gone into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone, the tension grows thicker. Dan can’t find his voice. He _still_ can’t stop staring at Arin. This is the longest he’d gone without his mind creeping back to the horrors of the torture house.

Arin’s good arm stays around Dan’s waist to support him. With his other hand, awkward with the splint, he strokes Dan’s arm with the pads of his fingers. And _god_ , Dan knows it’s impossible, but he wishes Arin could put both arms around him, both hands on him. Those big gorgeous fucking arms. Arin gets to keep them, and one day Dan will get to feel his embrace again.

Dan’s skin tingles at his touch. He moves his arms up and around Arin’s broad shoulders, his head spinning pleasantly, full of unexpected feelings that he thinks he sees mirrored in Arin’s gaze. 

Then Arin’s eyes drop to Dan’s mouth, and Dan’s heart races. He tilts his head in mute invitation, and Arin’s not slow to take the hint. Arin’s the one to close the distance between them this time, and while Dan might have been able to brush off their first few kisses as just friendly, this one was entirely different.

He goes slow, like he’s waiting for Dan to pull back. But when Dan presses himself forward instead, Arin’s mouth opens beneath his own. The shock of Arin’s tongue dipping into Dan’s mouth nearly makes him go limp in Arin’s grasp. He’s sinking, drowning in Arin’s presence, Arin’s scent, Arin’s taste. Then a fire awakens deep in his chest, and Dan firmly pulls himself back to the surface to regain his composure. He sucks Arin’s bottom lip into his mouth and lets Arin feel a hint of his teeth. Arin lets out a deep groan of approval.

“Dan,” he rumbles into the kiss, and his voice is mesmerizing like this. Dan would do anything that smooth deep voice asked him to do, would walk over flaming hot coals if that voice begged him to.

“Hey, so, uh.” Barry’s voice interrupts them. 

Dan breaks apart from Arin and glances over, breathless and panting. 

Barry looks embarrassed, but he also looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. “So, you know, as cute as this is, there’s a lot of questions being asked over in the kitchen, and we can still kind of, you know. See you guys standing there, what with the doorway being right here.”

“Oh,” Arin clears his throat. “Yeah.”

Barry holds up his hands. “But by all means, continue. Nobody is bothered. Or surprised, really. Just thought I’d let you know. If you want to go on, we’ll all keep eating pizza and pretending like we don’t hear anything.”

“Um,” Dan says, mostly to Arin but also a little bit to Barry. “My room’s kind of right down the hall.”

“Also a great idea.” Barry gives him a thumbs up. “You guys go, er, celebrate the good news. We’ll be here. I’ll turn on some music.”

“Barry,” Dan squeaks. “I just - we have to talk, that’s all!”

Barry just nods, unfazed, and ambles back into the kitchen.

“We’re just gonna _talk_!” Dan calls after him indignantly. 

In Barry’s absence, it’s just the two of them again, both men suddenly feeling incredibly conspicuous in the murmur of noise coming from the kitchen full of their friends.

“Should we?” Arin asks, jerking his head in the direction of the guest room.

“Probably.”

Arin steps back and lets Dan readjust himself on his crutches. Together they head down the hall at Dan’s turtle pace. 

It gives Dan a funny feeling in his chest to have Arin in his bedroom with him. Which is stupid, because this is Arin’s house to begin with. Arin looks around, taking in Dan’s things strewn about, the bottles of medication on the dresser, the wheelchair parked in the corner. Their silence feels odd and stilted, but what can either of them say after the kiss they’d just shared? Dan isn’t sure whether they should talk about what just happened, or talk about Arin’s arm, or just make small talk until the tension eases.

Dan, his arms already tired from the crutches, seats himself on the bed carefully. 

“Mind if I sit too?”

“It’s your house,” Dan says. “It’s your bed.”

The mattress squeaks when Arin sits down. Dan finds it hard to make eye contact. Looking at Arin makes him forget everything he wants to say. They should probably talk about the kiss first. But, fuck, Dan doesn’t know how to start. Instead he says, “How are you doing?”

“Complicated,” Arin says after a beat. “I mean, fuckin’ over the moon about my arm, obviously. But it’s still a long road ahead. I’m getting a skin graft in like a week and that’ll keep me in the hospital for a few days again. And then if the graft doesn’t take, I have to do it all over again.”

“Cross that bridge,” Dan says. “Maybe it hasn’t sunk in yet. I mean about keeping the arm.”

“You might be right. Fuck, I shouldn’t complain. Skin grafts aren’t a big deal.”

“So how does that work? You won’t even have a scar?”

“You’ll still see it. They do like, a skin net over big areas.”

“A skin net.”

“It’s like mesh, it’s super weird.”

Dan wrinkles his nose. “Who’s skin do they use?”

“Mine,” Arin says. “From, uh, probably from my ass. They said ass or thigh, whatever I have most of, I guess.”

Dan’s traitorous mind throws itself into the gutter, thinking about Arin’s thick thighs and ass. He quickly goes for the joke. “They’re gonna rip a chunk of skin from your butt and sew it on your arm? That’s metal as fuck.”

Arin snorts. “It’s much less cool than it sounds, trust me.”

“Well yeah. It sounds like it’ll hurt. I wouldn’t want someone to make a skin net out of my butt skin.”

“Yeah, on you they’d probably have to take both cheeks.”

“Are you saying I have no ass?”

“What, is that like, news to you?”

Dan feigns indignant splutters as Arin laughs.

When their giggles die down, Arin looks somber again. “It is supposed to be a rough procedure,” he says. “But I don’t know if anything could hurt more than my arm did after I woke up from that surgery. I’ll live.”

Dan hates thinking of Arin suffering. “It’s feeling better now?”

“Uh, relatively. Before it was like, torture. Now it just sucks. A manageable level of suck. So, pretty bad, but I actually might be able to sleep without morphine filling my whole body.”

Dan touches Arin’s wrist lightly, just where the bandages end, thinking about how much he wished he could endure some of Arin’s pain for him. The feeling of his skin surprises him. “You’re hot.”

“Thanks,” Arin says breezily. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

Dan finds himself laughing again, which feels nice. Novel. “You know what I mean. Should it be warm like that?”

“Yeah, it’s healing. Wanna see?”

“Kinda.”

Arin moves his arm slowly. He has a new splint, Dan notices; and it holds his arm at a bent angle toward his body. picks at the corner of a bandage until he gets an edge, and then carefully unwinds it until he reveals a peek of what’s beneath.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Dan’s stomach flips. The wound is at least an inch and a half wide, lined with metal staples at the edges, through which bright blue nylon string is criss-crossing over the angry red wound. 

“It’s way too wide to be closed with normal stitches or staples. So, they do this thing. They called it the shoelace technique.”

“That’s a pretty bland term for poking a hundred metal pins in you.”

“Looks better than it did, trust me.”

“It looks _awful_.”

Arin shrugs. “Hey, as long as it’s still attached to my body.”

It makes Dan sad that Arin’s so jaded from torture that he could be blasé about such an obviously painful wound. He hums, lips twisting, knowing Arin doesn’t want his pity but unable to pretend it didn’t affect him.

Of course Arin notices. “Really, Dan, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Dan knows Arin well enough to see that there’s something weighing heavy on his mind. “You can tell me.”

“I’m just mad about how long I’ll be in recovery, when there’s so much work to catch up on and you and Suze to take care of.”

Dan should probably argue that Arin didn’t need to take care of him, but he knew it would be like talking to a brick wall. Besides, he kind of liked it. _You and Suze_ , he’d said, like they were equals in his mind, the two people he loved most. 

He jumps at a distraction. “How long will you take to heal completely?”

“Fuck, dude, like four months.”

“Same,” Dan gestures at his leg. “Stupid thing.” Four months spent struggling to sit down to use the bathroom, four months of hobbling around and having people fall over themselves to open doors for him. 

Thinking of that stretch of time gets Dan thinking about Arin’s recovery, how he’d somehow lost track of the date his arm’s amputation would have been determined.

“So I still don’t understand,” he blurts.

“About what?”

“You said…you said you weren’t gonna find out about your arm until tomorrow. Are the doctors sure?”

“The date I gave you was the surgeon’s first estimate,” Arin confesses. “Pretty soon after, they knocked it back a day.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Dan doesn’t hide the hurt in his voice.

Arin looks guilty. “I wanted some time to process any bad news. Just in case. I had no fuckin’ idea how I’d react.”

“As if we’d judge you.”

“That wasn’t the point.” Arin reaches up and strokes Dan’s hair. “I didn’t want to upset you or Suzy. I figured a day would give me some time to, you know, get all the tears out. I wanted to be normal again by the time you saw me. I wanted everyone to treat me the same, and not like…”

“Like you were on your deathbed or something.”

“Right.” Arin pauses. “Are you pissed at me?”

Dan shakes his head. He’s still a little hurt, but then he remembers that he has no fucking right to be. He’s been hiding something from Arin too, for exactly the same reason. “I guess I can’t be.”

“What does that mean?”

Dan doesn’t answer right away. He can’t. 

“Dan.” Arin’s hand - so soft and strong - cups Dan’s chin again, tilting his face up. “Are you okay?”

“There’s something I didn’t tell you, too,” Dan manages. Hadn’t he told himself that once Arin’s arm was dealt with, he’d face his own problem? “I told Brian and Suzy but not you.”

Arin scans his face, eyebrows knitted. “It’s serious, huh?”

“It’s - yeah, um. Potentially.”

“Can you tell me now?” It’s a true question, not a request or demand. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, you know.”

Dan takes a deep breath. “I think so. Just, give me a minute.” He looks at his lap and tries a few practice sentences in his head. He can’t think of any easy way to say it. “So, they found out, that the black-haired man is on medication for HIV.” 

Arin’s eyes flicker with shock. “Oh,” he says shakily. “Oh, fuck.”

Dan plows on, determined to get it all out at once. “They put me on antiretrovirals at the hospital. Some was in my IV and then I have these pills to take. They’re effective within seventy-two hours after exposure.”

“Seventy-two hours,” Arin repeats, brow creasing. “So…after he took you in the van, anything that happened then would be okay. Right?”

“Yeah,” Dan says. “So there’s just the one time, in the basement…he didn’t finish in me, but um, there was the thing he did, when…with the cut on my stomach…”

Arin’s eyes widen. He doesn’t have to say that he remembers. Dan already knows. They look at each other, and Dan can see that night playing out in Arin’s head.

“We washed it out with rubbing alcohol,” Arin says, quiet and hoarse.

“The doctor said that probably wasn’t very effective.”

“God,” Arin says thickly, “so that…that’s…a big fucking risk. He got…that was right into your bloodstream, then.”

“But sometimes people on meds for HIV aren’t even able to transmit it. It can reduce your viral load to the point where they can’t even detect it. The black-haired man hadn’t been for a test in a long time and they can’t force him to take one. So the doctors said the risk was real, but low.” Dan presses a hand to his forehead as if that will help stop any unpleasant memories from welling up. “My first test came up negative.”

“There’s more than just one test?” Arin’s struggling to keep calm.

“It doesn’t always happen right away. You have to be tested again to be sure.”

“How long do you have to wait?”

“Six months,” Dan says wearily. “Six fucking months. I…I haven’t really processed it, I think? I’ve been too worried about you.”

He can see the muscles in Arin’s jaw flexing as he struggles to maintain his composure. “It’s a low chance, you said.”

“Very low.”

“And even if you are positive, you’re still gonna live a long and healthy life. It’s manageable, right?”

“Millions of people manage it fine, I guess.”

“I’ll have to read up on it and do everything I can to help you. Drive you to the doctor, whatever you need. Me and Suzy both. We’ll find out everything. We’ll make extra sure not to let you get sick. Disinfect the office all the time and nobody will be allowed to come into work sick in case they get you sick and - ”

“Arin,” Dan says softly, and Arin’s jaw snaps shut. “We’ll cross that bridge too, okay?”

“Okay.” Arin inhales through his nose and lets it out through his mouth. “I just want you to know that I’ll take care of you. Always.”

“After you take care of yourself, you mean.”

“I can do both.” 

“You have enough on your mind.”

“You come first. You and Suzy.” Arin puts an arm around him and rubs his back. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget all you did for us.”

 _And I’ll never forget you begging them to hurt you instead of me._ It’s a horrible time for the memories to creep up on him. Dan tears up, and Arin’s face drops. “Shit, fuck, don’t cry, baby.”

Dan’s not sure if the pet name slipped out or if Arin had meant it, but either way, it calms him. “I was just thinking how hard you tried to protect me. I’m just - super emotional lately.”

“Understandable.”

“It’s just. Really crazy, how much you’ve done for me. How you’re so willing to sacrifice your own needs for me. Back when I was sick, giving me a job and health insurance…and before that, when you were willing to fund NSP…it’s like all you do is be a hero and I don’t know how I was lucky enough to have met you.”

“I can’t fucking imagine my life without you, Danny.”

Dan’s heart beats double-time again. “So, um, Arin,” he says softly, questioningly. 

Arin swallows audibly. “Yeah.”

“The kiss. Um, kisses, plural. Maybe we should talk about it.”

“Probably. And maybe I should have had the balls to come out and tell you that I’m in love with you before sticking my tongue in your mouth,” Arin replies, totally matter-of-fact.

Dan’s mouth opens and closes. “What?” he whispers. “You’re - in love with me?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“When…since when…”

“Dunno,” Arin says. “It was kind of inevitable. A slow process. I think, probably, longer than I realize. But I do know I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you, Danny.”

That was almost as big of a shock as seeing Arin standing in his living room, looking hale and healthy. Dan blinks. “Since we _met_?”

“Suzy encouraged it. I thought she was crazy. And then I wasn’t so sure. And then I figured there’d always be time. That maybe in the future you’d give me some sort of sign. Now I’m realizing just how fucking fast life can change. That the future isn’t guaranteed.”

“Yeah,” Dan murmurs. “No kidding.”

“It’s kind of a lot to jump into, though. I’m not asking you to make any big decisions right now. It might not be a good idea when we’re still pretty fucked up.” Arin curls his hand lightly around the back of Dan’s neck, winding his fingers through the soft ringlets at his nape. “But I wouldn’t mind kissing you again. Maybe once our company leaves.”

Dan’s breath catches. Everyone else will leave except for Arin. Dan doesn’t have to leave. Dan’s staying here, sleeping here, in the same house as Arin. And Suzy’s okay with it. Suzy had told Arin that she was okay with this, with _them_ , and she had pretty much told Dan too.

Arin’s right when he says it’s a big thing to just jump into. But right now, Dan can’t think of anything he needs more than Arin’s love to get him through this. 

“Yeah,” Dan says, a little shaky, his heart on fire. “I’d like that, I think.” _And maybe I’m in love with you too,_ he almost adds, but he has so much to say on that topic that maybe it should wait until they had more time.

Arin’s face lights up, and anyone looking at him now would never guess how much he’d endured. 

“Come on,” he says, and offers his good arm to help Dan stand. “Let’s go. Our friends are waiting for us.”


	16. 16

Arin, who doesn’t usually like parties, actually finds himself having fun. 

The people here are all close to them, as close as family. But Arin feels triumphant for being able to face them, interact with them, and be open about his recovery. He’s smiling the whole time, even with the aches and pains. It doesn’t bother him that his arm hurts. It doesn’t bother him because it’s going to get better. Every day, it’s going to get better. 

And one day, he’s going to be able to do everything he used to do. He’s going to go back to work, follow his dreams, provide for his friends and family, hold his wife in his arms at night.

For a little while at least, Arin is on top of the world.

But the hour grows late, and the guests leave one by one, and Arin winds down with the atmosphere. He knows that he’s going to end up alone here with Suzy and Dan, and he’ll have a lot of logistics to figure out. Suzy had said she was okay with him pursuing something romantic with Dan, but now that it was a reality, would she feel the same way? And Dan - what if _he_ felt differently, once the shock of the good news wears off?

Someone fetches Dan his wheelchair when he grows tired on his crutches, and he wheels out through the back door to hang out on the deck with Brian, the last lingering guest. Arin takes the leftover pizza into the kitchen, where Suzy is making coffee.

“Suze,” Arin says, dropping his voice. “Hey.”

Suzy looks up questioningly. “Hey, Arin.”

“So, um. Are you okay?”

She raises an eyebrow. “That’s a loaded question.”

“I meant are you okay about today?”

Suzy sets her mug down and comes over to kiss Arin’s cheek. She touches his splint gently. “Why wouldn’t I be? Today was amazing. Were you worried I’d be upset that you lied about the date of your arm exam?”

“No - well, yes. That too.” Arin winces. He hates that he lied. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“Arin, we’ve been together for half our lives, and I can count on one hand the times you’ve straight up lied to me. And you’ve always had a good reason, and you always apologize.” She gets up on her tip-toes to stroke his hair away from his face. “Don’t worry, babe.”

“Okay.” Arin melts a little at her touch like he always does. He looks into her beautiful eyes and sees the courage there that he needs to say, “I wanted to make sure that you were okay with the kiss. With Dan.”

“Oh,” she says, and her face takes on an odd, strained expression.

Arin feels his heart sink. “Suze, look, I should have talked with both of you before doing anything like that, and I - ”

“He kissed you,” Suzy points out, and now her lip is twitching. 

“Well yeah, but it’s not like I tried to stop him.”

“Arin, I’ve been telling you to kiss him for years.”

Arin feels a blush blooming on his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you have.”

“So why are you so worried?” Suzy hugs him gently. “I’m happy for you. And I’m happy for me. This is the first day in a long time where I’ve felt almost like myself.”

“It’s just…” Arin frowns, thinking of how to put it in words. “It’s hard to believe, especially after all the horrible things that happened, that I could end up with _both_ of the greatest people I’ve ever known. It’s fucking surreal, Suze. I don’t deserve it.”

She kisses him for real, the kind of deep passionate kiss that gets Arin’s heart pounding and takes his breath away. When they part, she cups his face in her little hands and says, “Arin, you deserve everything and more.”

And for a little while, Arin gets lost in her touch, just the two of them alone in the kitchen, pressed as close as they can get. 

The moment breaks when they hear the back door close and Dan’s wheelchair whirring quietly back into the house. Suzy takes a gulp of her coffee, winks at Arin and says, “Dan’s probably freaking out too. You know how he is. Let me go talk to him, make sure he knows that he didn’t do anything wrong when he kissed you.”

“Sounds good.”

Suzy disappears with Dan into the guest bedroom as Arin awkwardly brushes his teeth. What they talk about, Arin has no idea, but Suzy comes back smiling and says, “He wants to see you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Something about you promising that you’d do something after the company left?” Her eyes are sparkling with mischief.

Arin promptly reaches for the remnants of his cold mint tea from earlier that morning. Suzy laughs at him knowingly, and teases, “Oh, so _Dan_ gets your minty fresh breath, but not me?”

“That’s the price you pay for me putting up with you tasting like coffee.”

She smacks his butt with the dish towel as he leaves, and calls, “Don’t be too rough with him, Arin, remember his ribs are still fractured.”

Arin splutters and blushes and can’t really think of a comeback. He can hear her giggling all the way through the living room, and it’s just so goddamn wonderful to hear her sounding happy.

 _She’s going to be okay,_ Arin thinks. _She always was the stronger one._

And Dan - his attitude alone, his permanent positive outlook on life, would get him through this too. Even when he’d been terribly sick years ago, in danger of death, he had smiles to give and made his visitors laugh.

As long as they were okay, Arin would get there. And even if he didn’t, that was fine too. The two important things were taken care of, and he’d continue to take care of them.

That was all that mattered.

**

Arin had thought that maybe being home in his own bed would stop the nightmares. That maybe his environment alone would just - flip some sort of switch in his head. That coming home would be like a reset button for his fucked-up brain.

The first night proves him wrong.

Arin goes to bed early, after the small impromptu party ends and all their friends are gone. He tires easily, and the company - as much as he’d enjoyed it - had been exhausting. As soon as Suzy turns out the light and curls up against his side, Arin’s stomach fills with a familiar dread. 

He knows what’s coming, and he knows he can’t stop it.

Suzy doesn’t take long to fall asleep. Arin tries to stay still, not wanting to disturb her. In sleep, her little face was smooth and at peace, and Arin likes the way she clings to his good arm like a sloth hugging a tree branch. He loves her so goddamn much, and after hearing about what she’d been through - what that sick fuck had done to her, and made her to do him - he can’t bring himself to complain at her about a few nightmares, or wake her up to whine about them. 

But when the familiar nightmare comes, he’s powerless to stand strong against it. He’s sucked under into blackness, and suddenly he can’t move. His chest is tight, like someone is standing on it. He tries to scream and he can’t. He can’t do anything.

And in front of him is Dan. 

Dan’s being held by the two cronies while the boss stands over Arin, sneering down at him. 

_What did I tell you I would do to Dan if you fucked up, Arin?_ He’s holding the hammer that he’d raped Arin with, the handle still slick with lube.

Arin can only look at Dan, who’s eyes are filled with horror. He cringes as the boss trails the metal head down his chest, then flips it around and nudges the handle between his thighs. 

Arin screams without sound, remembering the splitting pain as the handle had been forced inside of him, an obscene parody of sex, the worst torture he could imagine. And now Dan is going to be subjected to it too, and it’s all Arin’s fault, all of it.

Every night he dreams this and every night he forgets the bloody end. 

_You tried to escape_ , the boss says calmly. _This is what you’ve done._

_I didn’t mean to, please! Please I swear! I’ll do anything, fucking anything you want, torture me and rape me all you want, PLEASE -_

And then he brings the hammer down on Dan’s head. 

Dan goes down like a sack of potatoes, sprawled on the ground, blood everywhere. Arin can smell his blood, like he had on the night the black-haired man had cut him all up like a butcher. The hammer comes down again, and again, and again, and somehow Dan is still alive, still squirming, still raising his hands weakly to try and cover his face. Worst of all, he turns and looks at Arin, his face covered in blood. He stares at Arin with big pleading eyes, begging him to help.

And Arin does nothing.

And then suddenly Suzy is there. His wife, bruised and bleeding, staring at Arin with horror in her eyes as he strips her naked while the men watch. And then she’s ripped away from him and thrown on a bed, the boss’s bed, where Arin had been tortured. The boss is holding her down, and then the big man is there too and they’re using her like they did to Arin, her between them

And there’s the black-haired man with the knife. Watching Arin, waiting for him to make some mistake, waiting for his turn to have fun.

Arin can’t take it. He can’t. Nobody could.

 _Arin, help me,_ Dan whimpers. Dan, a bloody mess, impossibly alive. _Please, Arin…why couldn’t you help me?_

 _I tried,_ Arin tries to say, but he can’t move. _Dan, I tried, I’m sorry._

It’s too late. 

Suzy’s looking at Arin too, her eyes questioning, desperate. She’s begging, begging for him to make it stop.

Until the hammer comes down between her eyes, and closes them forever.

Arin screams, and screams, until his throat is raw and his head aches. He struggles against invisible bonds until his arm is ablaze with pain. Somebody is touching him, shaking him. He can still hear Suzy’s terrified voice.

“Arin! Arin, wake up!”

Arin groans, trying to move, trying to do something, anything.

“Arin, please, please wake up!”

Arin’s eyes snap open. It’s as dark as the basement was and he panics, his throat still tight with horror. He cries out into the blackness and suddenly the shaking stops and a light flickers on. Arin turns to see Suzy, in her pyjamas, and this isn’t the basement but his bedroom. He’s home. He’s home and Suzy isn’t dead. Suzy is right there.

Arin shudders with relief, and then the terror comes crashing down on him again. “Suzy,” he tries to say, but all that comes out is a sob.

She reaches for him, awkward with the splint in the way. “Oh, Arin,” she whispers. “It’s okay, it was just a dream.”

Her embrace just makes Arin lose it. He’s sobbing now, totally letting go, ugly crying like only she had ever seen him do. It fucking hurts, everything hurts, and he’s sick of it and he’s sick of the fear and the anger and the guilt, sick of the dreams and memories. He’s talking out loud but he doubts Suzy catches one word in ten, with the way Arin is bawling his eyes out the entire time.

“Shh, baby,” she keeps whispering, kissing him, helpless to do anything else. “It’s gonna be okay, Arin, it was just a dream. You’re going to be okay.”

“Suzy,” Arin chokes, finally catching his breath. The tears are subsiding, a little. “Suzy, oh, God…”

She looks so sad for him, and that’s not fair. Arin doesn’t want to be a burden for her. He’s ashamed of himself. He closes his eyes and Suzy peppers his closed eyelids with butterfly kisses that finally, mercifully, distract Arin enough from the horrible nightmare so that he’s able to stop crying, at least for now.

And then something crashes right outside their bedroom.

Suzy jumps and Arin curses, his heart rate tripling and the fear already creeping back into his chest.

“What was that?” Suzy whispers, her eyes huge.

Arin wants to reassure her, but the words stick in his throat. He’s already thinking the worst, intruders or burglars or God, what if it’s _them_ , and they broke out of jail, and oh _fuck_ Dan’s right downstairs, what if they - 

And then a familiar voice comes from the darkness. 

“Ow,” it says, sounding as startled as Arin. “Ow, fuck!”

“Dan!” Arin reacts with pure instinct. He’s out of bed and running down the hall before he can even process what might have just happened. All he knows is that Dan is hurt. “Fuck, fuck shit fuck, where are you?” He slaps at the wall, clumsy with his left hand, until he finds the light switch.

Dan is lying on his side at the landing at the top of the stairs, his face haggard and his hand clutched to his ribs. Arin’s heart seizes. 

“Danny, what happened?” Suzy is right behind Arin, her hands pressed to her mouth.

Dan looks up at them and blinks owlishly in the light. “I, um. I fell.”

“Why are you on the stairs?”

“’Cause I was trying to climb up them?”

Arin takes over. “What? Why the hell were you trying to climb up the stairs? _How_ were you climbing up the goddamn stairs?”

Suzy whispers, “Arin, don’t yell at him.”

“I’m not yelling!” Arin’s in no mood to fuck around. He can’t do this - he can’t be dragged out of one nightmare and then plunged into another, both of them dealing with Dan being hurt and Arin unable to make it better.

“Um,” Dan says, wincing. “I sort of, used the railing and my good leg and dragged myself up? I tried using one crutch but it wasn’t very helpful, but I figured I’d need it at the top. But then I dropped it when I fell.”

“Are you okay? Fuck, Dan, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Suzy overrides him. “Danny, you’re okay, right?”

Dan looks at Arin warily and then looks at Suzy when he says, “Yeah, I’m fine, I think.”

“What the fuck, Dan.” Arin presses his hands to his temples. “What the _fuck_.”

“You were crying,” Dan says, his voice so small and apologetic that Arin’s heart pretty much shatters. “I’m sorry. I just…I heard you scream and then you were crying. So I…I wanted to come see you.”

“Fuck.” Arin takes two deep breaths. He hadn’t thought Dan would hear him. _Good job, asshole, you woke up both your friends, and now you almost got Dan hurt. Again._ He grits his teeth against those thoughts and says, gently, “Don’t be sorry. Are your ribs okay? Is your leg okay?”

“Leg’s fine. My ribs kind of hurt but not that bad. I think, maybe I just had the wind knocked out of me. Can, um, can you help me up?”

Together, Arin and Suzy help Dan to his feet and support him as he climbs the last two stairs. Suzy holds onto Dan as Arin picks up his crutch from halfway down the stairs and races down to find its partner from the living room. Dan’s pretty good on his crutches, but the stairs in Arin’s house are tall and steep.

“How are we going to get him back down?” Suzy asks, and Arin just shrugs helplessly.

Dan mutters, “I didn’t think of that.”

“We’ve already established that you weren’t thinking,” Arin scolds him, his relief finally settling in and making it easier to breathe again. 

“Was too” is what he gets back

Arin splutters a little. “Are you five? What even is that?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Dan says, balancing himself on his crutches.

“Well, that’s no reason to almost kill yourself!”

“Little dramatic there,” Dan huffs. “I just took a little spill and also couldn’t get up on account of there being a medieval torture device on my leg.”

“You could have broken your neck, okay.”

Dan makes a _psssh_ sound.

Suzy says, quietly, “Arin broke his arm falling down a flight of stairs.”

Then Dan looks abashed. “I, um. Well. Yeah, you got me there.”

Arin says, “I mean, I was pushed, and the landing was a cement floor. But you get the point now, don’t you?”

“I get it,” Dan says, “but…I heard you scream and I needed to get here and I was trying to call for you but you didn’t hear me. I had to come make sure you were okay.”

“You can’t just hurt yourself trying to come make me feel better.”

Suzy raises an eyebrow at Arin meaningfully. “Yes, Arin, that’s what the nurse told you too, isn’t it?”

Arin doesn’t even have a comeback for that one. “Okay, yeah, so I’m an idiot. Doesn’t mean Dan has to be, too. Besides, I was just having a nightmare. Dan was _actually_ suffering when I was trying to visit him.”

Dan and Suzy both look at him. They’re quiet as they manoeuvre Dan carefully into their bedroom and get him seated on the bed. Arin does a quick once-over to make sure Dan’s okay, that his leg fixator is still in perfect position, all the pins and pin sites clean.

“Arin,” Dan says, as Suzy gets an icepack for his ribs and Arin shakes out an extra-strength Tylenol, which he knows won’t interact badly with Dan’s meds. “You know you don’t have to keep downplaying how bad it’s been for you.”

“I’m not downplaying anything.” Arin hands Dan his glass of water to take the pill.

“Babe, you kind of are,” Suzy disagrees. “That sounded like an awful nightmare.”

“It’s just a dream. It can’t hurt me.”

“Maybe not physically. But, Arin, I - I’ve had some pretty horrible nightmares, too. More so when I was still locked up.” 

“Me too,” Dan says softly. “I’ll take physical pain over some of the shit my imagination can torment me with any day.”

Arin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Today was already all about me. How I’m finally better and how neither of you have to worry any more.”

“What do you mean, today was about you?”

“The party, the pizza, all the attention and gifts and stuff.”

Dan’s brow creases. “It’s really not a big deal to order some pizza for all the friends that wanted to come see you because they love you and wanted to celebrate the good news.”

“And we all got gifts,” Suzy adds. “It’s what people do whenever they need to cheer their friends up. You bring stuff, any stuff, just to try to make them smile.”

“Look.” Arin’s getting frustrated, “it’s all just - it’s a lot, okay? And it has to stop. Whatever I’m going through, I have to deal with it. I don’t deserve all of this - this love and attention. Fuck, I scared the shit out of you and ruined your night, Suze, and then I nearly made Dan break his other leg on the stairs, all because I can’t handle a nightmare like some goddamn little kid. You shouldn’t have to put up with me You shouldn’t have to keep - fuckin’, loving me so much, when I’m so fucking useless.”

His words linger into the silence that follows. Arin winces. He hadn’t meant to say it so bluntly. Dan and Suzy both look shocked. 

Suzy‘s the one who gets it. She‘d always been able to practically read Arin‘s mind. “You feel guilty,” Suzy whispers. “That’s it, isn’t it? You actually still feel guilty.”

She cuts right to the heart of it. Arin’s not prepared. He flounders, then says, “Suze, you don’t know.”

“I know you, Arin. I know how you think. If someone you love is hurt, you think of all the ways you could have stopped it or helped, and then you beat yourself up over it.”

Dan says, “Yeah, he kind of does do that, doesn’t he?”

Arin feels his chest tighten again. “I meant you don’t know what I did to Dan, how it was my fault that they - that he - and you, neither of you know that I - I almost, got Suzy killed, and before that, the things he made me do, they… ” He’s not making any sense.

“How was it your fault?” Dan asks, astonished.

Arin can’t hold it back anymore. “I didn’t tell you, Suzy.”

“Tell me what?”

“How they - how Dan got hurt so much, with the knife, and how the shit with the one black-haired guy started. It was my fault. All I had to do was, was make the boss happy. He said if he felt teeth, he’d have Dan cut with the knife.”

Suzy makes a furtive movement, like she wants to hold Arin but also wants to give him space and let him go on. Dan’s eyes flicker downward.

Arin goes on. “All I had to do was one simple fucking task. I can’t even suck dick right, what the fuck? And now I see it every time I close my eyes. I dream of them hurting you. Hurting you both, because I fucked up. I see the boss beating you to death. With a fucking hammer.”

“A hammer?”

Neither of them knew. Arin has to say it. “The boss, he made me, um. He had a hammer and he…put the handle in me.”

He says it in the gentlest terms her can, but it doesn’t soften the blow. Suzy jerks back a little and Dan swallows, but they both stay pretty calm, which is what Arin needs. He can’t look either of them in the eye right now, not as they’re picturing it, but he’s not falling apart like he thought he would when he brought up that awful night.

“Arin - ” Dan begins, looking sick to his stomach.

“They made me hurt you too. Fuck, Dan, they made me take your clothes off. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? Having to put my hands on you when you were hurt and bleeding and terrified? After you just had the shit beaten out of you? And then - and then, they made me hold you while they washed out your cuts with alcohol, and you screamed and I fucking put my hand on your mouth to make you shut up.”

“They fucking _told_ you to, Arin! They made you! What is this?”

Suzy looks between them, white-faced. Arin had told her how they had carelessly cleaned Dan’s knife wounds, but not that Arin had been the one to hold him still as his body writhed with agony.

“I could have fought. I could have said no. I could have just sucked him off properly the first time and made him happy.”

“Arin.” Dan looks like he’s going to cry, which stops Arin’s mounting hysteria. “You could have fought? Really? They had guns! They would have killed you, or me, or both of us! Do you really think they would have just let me go if you had done everything perfectly?”

“They wouldn’t have cut you. And that wouldn’t have led to the black-haired man fucking up and being banned from touching you. And then he wouldn’t have gotten angry and he wouldn’t have - ”

“He wouldn’t have taken me out of the basement so I could escape?” Dan retorts.

Arin flounders. “Well, yeah, but - ”

“You think they would have just, maybe driven me back home with a nice hug and an apology, if you would have satisfied their sick fucking needs?”

“Well no, but he wouldn’t have came all over your stomach wound,” Arin almost shouts, “and if you get - if you end up being HIV positive, that’s all on me.”

Dan stares at him. So does Suzy. The sudden silence makes Arin’s ears ring and his head spin.

“You really think that,” Dan says. He looks at Suzy, who seems to be recovering from the shock of hearing what the black-haired man had done to Dan in his ecstasy. “He actually blames himself. Suze, what the hell, are you hearing this?”

Suzy just shrugs helplessly. “It’s what he does.”

Arin says, “Look, just listen for a second, I - ”

“No, Arin, _you_ listen.” Dan takes his hand and waits for Arin to make eye contact. Arin does, almost drowning in those big gorgeous hazel eyes. He swallows and says, “Okay.”

“None of what they did was your fault,” Dan says firmly. “None of it, okay? That’s what they wanted you to think. They were fucking with your head, Arin. They made you mess up. They thought it was funny. They would have made up some other reason to hurt me. Do you really not get that?” 

Arin can’t answer. 

“He’s right,” Suzy tells him softly. “You know, they told me they wouldn’t touch you if I was a good girl and did - everything he asked. And I - I was a good girl for him. I didn’t fight. I even…he liked me to say thank you after he did, things for me, like…with his mouth on me, or when he tried to make me c-come, or made me - get on top…” She stops herself. “The point is, he lied to me. Manipulated me. They kidnapped all of us to hurt us, and rape us. There was nothing we could do.”

Dan swallows, and Arin catches a glimpse of a tear before he ducks his head. He probably hadn’t heard Suzy talk so candidly about her own experiences yet. 

“You make it sound like he did that…that he raped you…a dozen times,” Dan says shakily.

“Yeah,” is all Suzy says, and Dan starts to cry, as silently as he can.

Suzy touches Dan’s hand, and still holds onto Arin’s. If Arin’s arm wasn’t in a splint, he’d grab Dan’s hand and complete the circle, but this would have to do.

“I’m healing,” she tells Dan, and then she says it to Arin too. “I’m healing. I have my husband here with me, and I have you, Danny. And I have my family on my side, and so many friends to take care of me. And I promise, that when I’m ready, I’ll tell you more about what happened.”

Dan just nods. “Okay,” he says, still trembling. “Okay. I’ll be there whenever you need me to be.”

“And Arin.” Suzy squeezes his hand. “You need to let go of the guilt.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not easy. None of this is easy. But you’re strong, Arin.”

“I’m not.”

His words fall on deaf ears. Dan looks at Suzy and nods in agreement with her. “You’re like, my backbone, Arin. You’re always there for me. You’re the most selfless man I’ve ever met.”

“I failed you,” Arin whispers. “Suzy, I was supposed to protect you. I made a vow. You’re my _wife_ , and I’m supposed to keep you from harm. And Dan - ”

“Don’t even start,” Dan orders, surprisingly assertive. “You would have died for me. You offered yourself up for me without even blinking. You did all you could, and if I can’t make you believe that now, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying.”

“I’m outnumbered,” Arin says feebly, even as a smile somehow grows on his face. Dan and Suzy smile back. 

Suzy nuzzles into Arin’s neck and says, “No more guilt, Arin. Promise me. Promise me that you’ll stop blaming yourself.”

Arin could never deny her anything. “I promise,” he answers. He says it again, looking at Dan. “I promise.”

That night Arin sleeps with Dan on his good side, cuddled up to him, and Suzy on his splint side, shuffled down far enough so that she’s actually under the splint and can rest her head against Arin’s soft stomach. Her arm is across his hips, a nice soft weight. Dan snores a little bit, but it’s kind of cute, and besides, Arin would rather be kept up by Dan snoring than the nightmares.

That night, the nightmares don’t come back.

Arin sleeps till dawn, and when he wakes up with Suzy and Dan still attached to him, he thinks that maybe, one day, things really would be okay again.

*

Dan feels the wind on his face, hears the rushing sound of a billion leaves fluttering above him. It sounds like the restless eternal noise of the ocean. The world is so fucking huge outside of the hospital. The world is so huge outside of the basement. It’s terrifying and exhilarating and Dan’s so busy flying high on the excitement that he forgets the constant ache in his chest and the sharp throbbing pain in his leg.

Ahead of him, Suzy tilts her face up to the sun. Arin’s watching her, and he’s watching Dan too, when he thinks Dan isn’t looking.

“Wait up, Suze,” Dan calls, carefully planting his crutches before taking each step. “This turtle is having a hard time on uneven terrain.”

Arin says from behind him, “Careful, babe. You’re getting better on those things, huh?”

“Step by step.”

“That’s all you can do.” Every day, Arin’s smile has a little less tightness to it. His arm is getting better faster than the doctors had thought. Even so, it’s Suzy who’s carrying all of their picnic gear, packed up in a big cooler bag with ice. 

The picnic had been Arin’s idea. Dan has no clue what he would have done without Arin and Suzy brightening every day with something new. A movie night or pigging out on Thai takeout, a fiercely competitive game of Monopoly where Suzy trashed them both. Today is the first time they’ve all gone out alone, without the security blanket of Brian or Barry or Ross. 

It’s a big milestone, and Dan’s proud of all of them. Dan’s proud of himself.

The picnic was Arin’s idea. Dan follows Suzy to a picnic table, and Arin carefully helps Dan sit down. Dan props his crutches up against the side of the table and reaches for a sandwich. It’s hard work propelling himself around on crutches and he’s damn hungry. Arin takes one too but Suzy keeps staring off into the distance, her face peaceful.

Dan bumps his sandwich against Arin’s in a weird little toast. “It’s nice out here.”

“Yeah,” Arin agrees. “Not too hot. The breeze is nice.”

“This is like, the exact opposite of a basement.”

“Is it? Huh.” Arin scratches his beard. 

“You knew,” Dan says, then pauses. “Thank you.”

“It’s just a picnic,” Arin says, but Dan can tell by his creeping blush that he’s pleased.

“Actually,” Suzy says, coming back to herself with a start. “Arin and I did have something to ask you, Danny.”

“Sure,” Dan says easily. “What is it?”

“How would you like to move in with us?”

Dan almost chokes on his sandwich and has to hastily reach for his water. Arin’s looking a little concerned, a little anxious. Suzy seems calm.

“Move in with you,” Dan repeats. He stares at Suzy and then turns his eyes meaningfully in Arin’s direction. “You really want me around when I’m like, actively trying to steal your husband?”

“He’s yours as much as he is mine,” Suzy shrugs. “Besides, I know he loves me. I don’t need to fight for him.” 

“You can have the ground floor room you’re in now or the one upstairs once your leg heals,” Arin explains, and Dan can tell this is all rehearsed. “Our master bedroom has the en-suite bath, so you could have a bathroom to yourself.”

“But I have a house,” Dan frowns. 

“Sell it.” Arin shoves half of his sandwich in his mouth and chews while Dan flounders.

“Sell it!” he finally splutters.

“Why not?” Arin’s swallowed his sandwich. “You were just saying yesterday that you hated the thought of having to go home.”

“But that’s not your problem. It’s mine. Plus, I’m in no shape to move all my stuff, or deal with realtors, and - ”

“We already talked to Brian. He’s on board and so is Rachel. Barry. Ross. Matt and Ryan. They can all help. You can sit back and relax the whole time.”

It hits Dan fully then. Arin is serious. Arin and Suzy want him to be part of their lives, part of their family. He’s being handed the world and he doesn’t know what to do with it. 

“I - ” he starts, and then he chokes up, because of course he does. It takes him a few minutes to be able to say, “Yes. Yes, fuck yes, of course I want to live with you. I love you. I love you both.”

Suzy gets a little teary at that, too, but Arin’s face splits in a grin. Looking at him, Dan is surprised and delighted to see genuine joy back on Arin’s face. In this moment, he looks like the old Arin, the man he was before his life was shattered. And if Arin can get there, maybe Dan can, too. 

Step by step, one day at a time. They’re all far from healed, but they have each other.

Dan thinks maybe that’s enough.


End file.
